Sometimes I remember dad would bring home a big crate of eggs. There were so many in that box . . . maybe a 100. We’d crack em open and they’d drop in the pan . . . the yolk always speckled with red. Those eggs were so bloddy. But we ate em. Dad said they were ok. He said there wasn’t nothin’ wrong with them eggs. He said he got em at a bargain through the lab. But one morning I cracked one and a little embryo fell out. You could see its legs and beak . . . just like a dead baby bird layin’ on the side walk. That was too much to take sizzlin’ in the skillet. We quit eatin’ them eggs. We wondered why dad would bring something like that home to us. Ralphie said, “He didn’t get them eggs at a bargain . . . he probably got em for free.”