The Sixth Egg

I gave a mighty rolling heave off the chair cushion and tumbled onto the sunny breakfast table, right beside an open cardboard egg carton. Five smooth white eggs sat quietly in a row, leaving the corner cup totally vacant—an obvious invitation for a round, squishy guest! I wiggled to the edge, squeezed my sides inward, and plopped straight into the dimpled hollow. Squeeeze! I wedged in so snugly that my soft middle puffed over the rim like an oversized, slightly unruly extra egg. Whenever I gave a tiny wobble, the rough cardboard creaked in a delightfully muffled rhythm beneath me.