The Hot Pink Egg

Elizabeth and I make up stories together every night as we lie beneath her pink quilt. Generally, they feature a mouse and we call them 'Mouse Tales.' The feature below is tonight's story, written down by me for posterity. It is a deparature from the norm in that it features a spring hen. (Whoever heard of a mouse sitting atop an egg? Then again, that might be another story...) I rarely have more fun than when 'writing' with Beebs; few things thrill me more than her love of words.

Once upon a time in a field growing really tall spring grass, there lay hiding a hot pink plastic egg.
A hen came upon the hot pink plastic egg.
She looked to the left.
She looked to the right.
"Where is the mother of this poor hot pink egg?" the hen asked. "Why, this little thing must be cold. I will warm it and wait for the chick to peck it's way into the world."
So the mother hen fluffed her feathers and carefully arranged herself atop the egg.
She enjoyed the afternoon breeze.
She enjoyed the sunset.
She enjoyed the sparkly stars as they popped out around the moon.
The sun came up and the mother hen flopped off the egg to inspect it.
"This little chick is a late riser," she said. "I will try to wake her up."
So the mother hen knocked on the hot pink egg.
Nothing happened.
She knocked again, louder this time.
"Little chick, are you home?" the mother hen asked.
There was no answer.
So the mother hen used her strong beak to crack the hot pink egg in two.
"Oh, my!" she exlaimed.
There lying in the center of the hot pink egg was a very small bunny dressed in gold. She wore a pink bow tie and smelled very, very sweet.
"Why, you are not a chick at all!" the mother hen exclaimed. "You are a lovely little bunny."
The mother hen cocked her head with a smile, fluffed her feathers and gently wrapped her warm wing around the chocolate bunny.