A cold summer morning breeze once again woke me up. I got up and did what an average teenager would do in the morning; go to the bathroom and pee. As I peed, I thought of what to eat for breakfast. "Since the sun and pee are yellow, might as well have scrambled eggs for breakfast.", is what I thought. I then cleaned myself up and rushed to the kitchen to see if there are still ingredients. When i checked in the refrigerator, I found out that there are no eggs left. Luckily, my father owned some chickens, so I ran outside to the coop. When I saw the coop, a memory once again flashed back into my mind. It was when I first take care of chickens.
(When I was just a year younger, my father gave me some eggs, seven of them, and an incubator to see if I can raise some on my own. Those eggs were just a few hours old, so I quickly put them in the incubator. I waited pateintly and after several days, the eggs were hatched. All are born well and perfect, except for one. It had black feathers, so I named it "Blacky". Blacky was weak, since it can't break the shell, so I took it out of its shell. I put him back in the incubator along with the others. Every time I went to check the chicks, I always saw Blacky getting trampled by its siblings. One day, I took it out, and placed it on an another spot in the incubator that I made. Then I talked to Blacky, since I saw my father talking with his chickens too, "Sorry Blacky, this is all I've got. I know, life's unfair. So unfair that even your siblings are born so different from you. But if you are to survive, someday you will get what you deserve.". I took great care of the chicks, until they grew old enough to lay eggs. I went to see my father to give him the first set of eggs that I harvested, but he refused to take them and said, "Why don't you try to cook them? To see if which one's the tastiest.)
That memory often came back to me.I chuckled as I harvested some eggs from the coop. I went back inside and cooked myself some scrambled eggs. I placed everything in the table and was about to eat when John went out of his room. He yawned and said, "Brother, do we still have those fried chickens that you made last night?". I replied, "Nah, we ate all of them." He replied, while eating his share of the scrambled eggs, "Why didn't you kill all the chickens, Brother? We could still have leftovers by now.". I replied, while bringing my plate to the sink, "Good thing come to those who made good.". Then, I heard a chicken clucking outside the back door. I grabbed some feed, fed it to the chicken, and said,
"Nice work Blacky. Eat up.".