@bowcarried: if i help you take care of the chickens, do we get to have some extra fresh eggs?
And you know, his initial impulse is to say please, God, we have so many. Because they do. They have so many eggs. He’d thought, in his calculations, he’d allowed for that, considering the sheer number of things eggs are present in: Omelets. Cakes. Scrambled eggs. Fried eggs. Poached eggs. Eggs Benedict. Muffins. Egg drop soup. Egg wash. The list literally never ends; he’s considered this and has thought himself prepared.
And he’s been wrong.
They have six chickens. Six chickens have, initially, seemed like a good, round number. Six eggs a day does not seem like many, to the untrained observer. Six eggs a day (roughly) is a full dozen every two days. Still, maybe doesn’t seem all that daunting. Until they start piling up, and to make sure they don’t go over, every single meal somehow features an egg in some size, shape, form, or fashion.
So yes. He’s very willing to send Kate along with as many eggs as she can ever possibly want.
Instead, however, he just stands there, squinting at Kate like he’s turning the idea of letting Kate have eggs over in his mind, Nugget tucked into the crook of his arm getting the good scritchins. “I mean, I guess we can spare a few. You gonna have to actually collect them yourself, though. And ask them nicely before you go shoving your hands in, if you get pecked that’s on you.”
