The Agony and the Eggstacy

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I started a Thing.

Well, technically I didn’t start it.

Brett did.

You see, once a month we get organic eggs delivered at work and last month while I was off on a break, he decided to paint faces on all my eggs.

I told him this was a fundamentally cruel thing to do to a parent.

He’d given them personalities, families, backstories.

Arriving home they caused a familial uproar as children raced to claim the eggs of their choice.

When each one was sacrificed to the great God Nutrition, there were tears and gnashing of teeth.

All of which I could deal with.

Except that when the time came round again for the egg delivery I was crippled by the knowledge that I could not go home with plain white boring old eggs.

I’d have them thrown at me.

And this time Brett had better things to do.

Like his job.

So, the task fell to me.10665164_10152218381871116_957191845226552410_n

Actually I had a wonderfully creative time and enjoyed myself enormously.

And now I have a Thing.

I’m thinking next month I’ll do a Marvel superhero theme…

 

PS: Because of the great car accident I got a lift part of the way home and walked the rest along the highway in red heels holding my eggs. My husband said I should see if I was trending on Instagram under #crazywhitewomanonhighwaywitheggs. Humph.

 

 

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3 thoughts on “The Agony and the Eggstacy

  1. Pingback: Internet shaming | The Blurred Line

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