an almost fiasco

SHORTLY after completing my first entry on my newly fashioned blog, I get to hide eggs in the backyard for my little brother Josh and for our neighbors. I hide them here. I hide them there. I hide them almost everywhere. It's almost as if Dr. Seuss himself whispers into my ear like a ghost of Easters past. Anyhow, I also hide one hard-boiled egg in this protruding, plastic pipe we have near our porch. We always hide one there. I don't think twice about stashing it there.
SO the kids egg hunt. Little three-year-old Colton gets some guidance from his mom as to where to search. She leads him to the pipe protrusion. He sticks out his cute little digits in anticipation of latching on to the egg, but the egg will have nothing to do with capture. The egg rolls out of sight, down the pipe.
THE adults gather and realize that the pipe is actually a part of the furnace system. I can see everyone's thought bubbles: "Analyn is such an idiot!" I run and get the flashlight. We look and can't see anything. My dad comes home to a discussion about whether we'll have to cut the pipes downstairs or not to try to rescue our house from future rotten egg stench.
CLIFF, Colton's dad, has a grand idea. He gets his shop vac out and proceeds to stick it in the pipe. All the while, my dad is muttering about how he can't believe the egg could have gone back that far. Cliff powers up the vacuum and we listen for five empty seconds until THUNK--something has entered. He turns off the vac and opens it up for us to see. We peer in and see an egg deshelled. We laugh. I still see everyone's thought bubbles though: "Analyn is still an idiot, but at least the Skab's house won't smell like rotten eggs."
THUS concludes my lunch-break diversion. Laters.