This morning, I found myself laughing at an egg.
I weighed it, and it was 90 grams.
Big enough already.
But the shape was even more impressive.
One of our hens had laid an unusual egg before.
That one had a little rose-like pattern near the top,
and unless you looked closely, it almost seemed like a normal egg.
But this one was different.
This one wasn’t just unusual at the top.
Its whole body was wonderfully out of shape.
A little pressed here,
a little folded there,
slightly wrinkled in places,
and with a very strong opinion at the bottom.
The more I looked at it,
the more I felt like it was saying,
“Look at me…”
“My mum made me this way…”
“Do you think I need a plastic surgeon?”
Its mother is a Rhode Island hen.
Sometimes I wonder
if she is laying eggs
or creating tiny pieces of art.
I looked at the egg and quietly answered,
“No, you don’t need fixing.
You’re not ugly.
You were just born very freely.”
There are plenty of smooth, pretty eggs in the world.
But an egg like this?
You don’t forget it easily.
It made me laugh.
It made me feel a little sorry for it.
And somehow, it was very lovable.
Today’s 90g egg.
No plastic surgeon needed.
Just someone to notice it and say,
“You’re alright.
You were born perfectly in your own way.”
“나 좀 봐줘…” 하는 달걀
glorialeeart.blog 
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