The word egg reminds me of a sign I once saw that read, Eggs for Sale! My dad and I were riding around in the car. I had been begging him for hours to let me drive just a little; He finally gave in. He pulled over on a back road and let me get in the driver side. To my surprise he let me drive for about two hours. I had taken so many back roads that a sign with bullet holes read, Woodruff County.

“Do you even know where we are?” I asked my dad.

“Nope,” he answered.
I didn’t respond because I was afraid he would make me pull over so he could drive us back, There were very few houses around, only fields and a lot of cows. A few hundred feet away I noticed a sign.

“Eggs for sale!” I read aloud.
My dad laughed.

“We must really be in the country!” I said.
I had grown up mostly in West Greenville, and there were most definitely not any signs like that around. I found it sort of amusing though. It may have been an old, worn out sign, but to me it was unusual. My dad may not even remember it, but for me it will last forever as a little memory with my dad.