The Good Egg Book Read Aloud - The Best Children's Books Read Aloud

Introduction

The Good Egg.From the bestselling authors of The Bad egg, a timely story about not being Grade A perfect!
Join the good egg. He’s a delicious egg, surely.
But attempting to be so great is hard when everyone other is plain ol’ offensive.
As the different eggs in the dozen perform badly, the good egg begins to crack of all the pressure of believing like he has to be accurate.
So, he chooses enough is enough! It’s time for him to make a difference…
Influential duo Jory John and Pete Oswald produce a funny and entertaining story that tells us of the value of stability, self-care, and allowing those we admire (even if they are seldom a bit rotten).
Excellent for reading aloud!

The Good Egg by Jory John

Oh, hello. I was just rescuing this cat. Know why? Because I’m a good egg, a very good egg.

It’s true. I do all kinds of good things, like I’ll carry your groceries, I’ll water your plants, I’ll change your tires, I’ll paint your house. If you need any help whatsoever, I’m your egg.

I’ve always been a good egg. It’s been this way from the start, even in my earliest days back at the store.

There were a dozen of us living together under one recycled roof. There was Meg and Peg, and Greg, and Cleg, and Shell, and Shelly, and Sheldon, and Shelby, and Eggbert, and Frank, and other Frank.

The other 11 eggs weren’t on their best behavior. They weren’t exactly good. They ignored their bedtime.

They only ate sugary cereal.

They threw tantrums.

They cry for no reason. They broke their stuff on purpose.

Meanwhile, I tried to take charge. I tried to fix their bad behavior. I tried to keep the peace because I was a good egg,

a very good egg

Nobody seemed to care though. Every night, I was exhausted. My head felt scrambled.

Then, one fateful morning, I noticed some cracks in my shell. They were everywhere.

My doctor said it was from all the pressure I was putting on myself, the pressure of making sure everybody was as good as me.

I was cracking up literally. Something had to change. I’d had enough.

I told Meg and Peg, and Greg, and Cleg, and Shell, and Shelly, and Sheldon, and Shelby, and Eggbert, and Frank, and other Frank that I was leaving.

“I can’t be the only good egg in a bad carton,” I said. “Blah, blah, blah,” they replied. I left that night.

I wandered from town to town. The hours became days. The days became weeks. I lost track of time.

I was alone

out there on the road, under the stars. I really tried to focus on myself and what I needed.

I took walks. I read books. I floated in the river. I wrote in my journal

and found simple moments to be quiet. I breathed in, I breathed out. I even started painting. For once, I found time for me.

And guess what? Little by little, the cracks in my shell started to heal. My head no longer felt scrambled.

I started to feel like myself again.

So, I’ve made a big decision. I’m returning to my old carton and my friends. Besides, I’m kind of lonely out here.

This time, I know what I need to do. I’ll try not to worry so much.

I’ll be good to my fellow eggs while also being good to myself.

Here we go.

Everybody missed me. I missed them, too. “Hello, Meg. Howdy, Peg? Hey, Greg. Greetings, Cleg. What’s up, Shell? Aloha, Shelly. Hey, yo, Sheldon. Hi, Shelby. Good day, Eggbert. What’s happening, Frank? How do you do, other Frank?”