Chirky

In third grade, I participated in an Easter Celebration at Samuell Farm. My friend and I won the three-legged race, and in return we each received a five pound bag of Jelly Belly's. We also tried our luck at the Easter Egg Hunt,
on the farm, in our pretty dress-up Easter clothes and white patent leather shoes. Whoever found the golden goose egg won the grand prize. It should have been easy to find, because:

a) what egg is gold?
b) a goose egg is about 4 inches tall
c) did you read a & b?

I never found the golden goose egg.

Last night I had a dream about it, though. Except we weren't at Samuel Farm, and I wasn't a third grader, and my little friend didn't exist. Mary Anne and Megan (family friends we've known my entire life - Mary Anne is my mom's age and Megan is my age and we played in our cribs together) and my mom and I had been given a special invitation to an Easter Egg Hunt in Donald Trump's home.

Every egg was a golden goose egg, and twisted apart to reveal a prize inside. Some eggs had a car key, one had a set of walkie-talkies, some held cash. As we searched further and further, the golden goose eggs became more like gigantic, slimy skinned peaches. The gift held within the last golden goose egg was a silver dinner fork, still in its original packaging, complete with a pricetag of $24.77.

Megan excitedly reached within the neck of her shirt and pulled out the silver chain she wore around her neck. On the chain were two dessert forks and one dinner fork that matched the fork that Trump had hidden within this egg.

I don't know the point of this dream, but I thought it was pretty odd that Megan was wearing forks on a chain around her neck.