I could see that mornings left over scrambled eggs going into the back. In a rush, those eggs weren’t so bad. Many mornings I had made a mad dash for them before the bell rang. I don’t know about you, but it felt like an eternity waiting for the lunch bell to ring if I skipped breakfast.
When we got to the cafeteria, I stopped the first lady I saw. She was cleaning the tray line, slinging left-over food in every direction. When she spotted us, she stopped slinging her rag around and stood with her hand on her hip.
“Our teacher wanted us to ask you for an egg.”
She sounded almost confused. I thought I had been clear the first time, but I took another stab at it.
You know, that oval white thing that comes out of a chicken. Of course, some eggs are different colors and they don’t all come out of chickens, but I didn’t want to confuse the poor lady any more than she already was.
I couldn’t tell if her face was twisting in disgust or confusion.
“We need it for a science project,” I gently prodded. What else does she want?
“I heard you,” she snapped, “We don’t have them.”
There’s no need to lie, if you don’t want to give us one just say so.
“You don’t have an egg?”
I pointed to the bucket of scrambled eggs another lady was carrying to the back. I didn’t want to come right out and say it, but I wasn’t going to just go away. It was too early in the morning for this.
“We don’t use real eggs,” she said flatly.
I’ll be honest, her comment made me a little queasy.
“Then what have I been eating?”
I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer.
“We use powdered eggs.”
She spun on her heel and went back to cleaning. I turned to my friend who had the same concerned look on her face. What on Earth was a powdered egg? I had never even heard of something like that. When we returned to the classroom to give the teacher the news, she was just as surprised as we were.
Guess who never ate eggs there again.