Dodo Eggs

American history is a patchwork of great battles, dynamic leaders, and earth-changing ideas.  But between these large and notable patches are the stitches of much smaller transitions. 

One stitch would be the traditional dunce cap with its tall conical shape.  My question is…When was the last time it was used?  Who was the last student to earn a stool in the corner with the cone crowning his messy hair? 

I’m offering you two stories.  One is true and the other false.  If you are able to discover which is which, I’ll offer you a mortarboard and tassel.  If you can’t, you earn a virtual dunce cap. 

Egg #1

The outdoor pool were I spend a portion of my summer has a guardroom full of musty, worthless items.  There are sunscreens with SPFs ranging from five to nuclear fallout.  Broken or forgotten sunglasses can be found as well as white, insulated cups that sit during the winter off-season with cola dried to the bottom. 

The first summer the cups were used each lifeguard painted his or her name on them in tempura paint.  The plan was for everyone to have their own cup, but human nature shorted the plan.  If someone needed a drink and couldn’t find theirs, they would often borrow another’s cup.  Not surprisingly, the cup was not rinsed out very often and the owner would find it turned into a habitat for wild bacteria. 

Over the seasons, the cups have had most of thier paint worn away.  There are a couple notable exceptions.  The cup I often use has a D still prominent on the bottom edge.  Another has a remnant A and another a B. 

When a head guard stops by your stand to ask if you want something to drink, it’s not uncommon to say, “Yea, I’d like a D cup please.” Or “I’ll take an A cup.” 

It’s off color and funny for both the guys and gals.

Egg#2

Humor can be horrendously misplaced especially with a group of waiters hanging out during a slow lunch shift.  

I was leaning against the counter in the wait station looking for my last table to pay and leave.  It was two women who defiantly had nothing scheduled the rest of the day and were eating their salads one tender leaf at a time.  It was taking forever.  Benito was in the same situation. 

He grabbed his small amount of his girth with both hands.  “Man, I’ve got to start working out again.  I’m getting fat and I’m not even married yet.”

Tom nodded.  “Yea, my belly button keeps moving too.  It used to sit much higher above my belt buckle.”

I offered Tom a sideways look.  “What?  I don’t believe that.  Your bellybutton just comes out as you gain weight.”

“Nope.  It’s moved.”

I pointed to the location on Tom’s button-up shirt were I was sure the indention had to be.  “Everyone’s button is right there.”

“Well, poke me.  You won’t find it there.”

I did and it was lower than I expected.  “Hey, I think you’re moving it.” 

Tom shook his head.  “Matt, I’ll bet cleaning duties on each other’s last table that I can guess closer to Benito’s bellybutton than you can.”

“Fine.  Get your dishrag ready.”

Benito straightened and put his hands to his side.  “Well, make this quick.  I’m already starting to feel uncomfortable.”

I ended up beating Tom by “threading the button” and went home early.

So…Which egg is which?  Leave your guess in the comments section.  I’ll put the answer in the comments section tomorrow.   

Also, look as Good Egg & Bad Egg #5.  The answer is in the comments section.

• Good Egg & Bad Egg 5
• Good Egg or Bad Egg? (Part II)
• Good Egg & Bad Egg 4
• Mental Mechanisms
• A Stinging Discovery