Free range Eggs

I'll have to motor on this one to type it out in five minutes.

I was trusted, at the great age of nine, or thereabouts, to stroll up to the farm shop at the top of the road, to buy some free range eggs.

Money in hand, I walked up and had to pass the newsagents, they sold eggs too, and they were cheaper, so I bought some, plus, with the change, bought five bubblies, penny bubble gums.

Two went in to the face and they were chewed rapidly in the slow walk home, then I realised that I had the evidence on me, so the other three were pushed under the back gate of some neighbours house, panic was setting in.

The unblinking eyes gazed up at mother and swore that the eggs, complete with little stamped lion, had been bought at the farm shop. The reasoning didn't work and I was frogmarched up to the aforementioned shop where the lady insisted that she hadn't sold them, they sold real eggs, farm eggs, not that lion stamped stuff.

Then, logic was applied and mother frogmarched me, still protesting my innocence, down to the newsagent, where, that lady insisted that she had sold me the eggs, and with some amazing memory technique told my mum that I'd bought five bubblies as well.

I still unblinkingly insisted on my innocence, that it was all a set up, and there was no evidence of bubble gum on me, I was framed in a sinister plot.

It didn't go down well, and this at a time when mothers were not controlled against beating the bejeebers out of their precious offspring.