While out of town this past weekend, my parents checked out an antique shop they came across. Well, low and behold what should Dad find but a marble egg. That was just too good to be true. Being a farm boy himself and a real prankster at heart he couldn't pass it up. A few minutes later the egg was purchased and my parents were busily "hatching" a plan. Tuesday afternoon my son gets home from school and goes directly out to collect eggs. He calls me in a total panic. While giving me the egg count, it is obvious that he is very alarmed that something is wrong with one of them. I played totally ignorant, but inquisitive of the whole issue. By the time I get home from work he's decided there must be some funny business going on and tries to get me to fess up by showing me his find. Like the good daughter that I am, I didn't immediately rat out Dad, but I did strongly suggest that my son give his ole grandpa (who also happens to be a Veterinarian) a call and find out what he knows about petrified eggs. Later on Tuesday evening after about a 15 minute conversation with grandpa, Bill figures out that he's been had and by whom. But since no one confessed to anything, we've returned the mystery egg to one of the boxes for the time being as a little egg laying encouragement for the ladies. Never fear though, it will definitely be included in the next dozen eggs that appears in my parents refrigerator. Bill will make sure of that.