Last One To Read This Is A...

I've been transplanted from city life for a year now (almost to the day), and I've learned many things. One of them is that Little House on the Prairie is dramatized, sensationalized, and romanticized.

While, yes, farm fresh eggs from chickens whose names you know are glorious things...


... you never get rotten eggs from a store!

I have refrained from posting a picture of the noxious thing because, quite frankly, it looks 1/2 as nasty as it smells and the fetid stench nearly caused me to wretch (I don't want a visual reminder of the putridness).

But never fear. Since I've removed the malodorous monster, disinfected my entire kitchen, and air-freshenered all remaining fumes from the foul beast, I am still going to make these decadent oatmeal fudge nut bars. (I think they're best served warm and gooey with ice cream, but they're also amazing after they've set up).