The Thing About Eggs

Okay. Confession. I am a breakfast eater. But not really an early breakfast eater. 

More of a late breakfast eater, like around 9am, when I start to feel hungry. 

And I really, really like breakfast foods. 

In my perfect world it would be several big, fluffy, french toast with lots of butter, just the right amount of syrup, and a dollop of whipped cream (yum!); 12 pieces of bacon; scrambled eggs with ham and cheese; super crispy hash browns with ketchup; and chocolate milk (and none of that skim stuff). 

All of it. Every morning. 

But alas, there is no amount of running that can undo what a breakfast like that will do. 

So I usually stick with one egg, canadian bacon (at 15 calories a piece) and a piece of whole wheat toast. 

BORING! 

Even still, I like my protein in the morning. And I really like eggs. 

Except for this one thing. 

Raw eggs. 

And the carton. 

(And by one thing, I mean, two.) 

There is just something about a raw egg that creeps me out. They are icky, and sticky, and slimy and gooey. And have you ever tried to clean one up after it falls on the floor? So disgusting! 

It is at times like those that I wonder how I can ever eat the things!

I try very hard to separate myself from all that is gross about eggs so that I can still enjoy them for breakfast. 

And you should know that I love my red meat cooked medium rare. Give it to me red and juicy, baby. 

But the egg?

Must. Be. Overcooked. 

No exceptions. 

And there's one more thing. The carton.

 I have very strict rules. 

They go like this:

Can you see what's going on here?

If not, try again.

And again.

Here. I'll make it easy for you.

See what I'm talking about?

Balance. It's all about balance.

I am not making this up. Call me neurotic, call me obsessive, call me crazy. I don't really care. 

The truth is that I am deeply disturbed when the eggs are not perfectly balanced in the egg carton. 

I try very, very hard to ignore this. But sometimes (often?) I can't help it and I have to add to or take away from my egg breakfast so I can return the egg carton to the fridge in perfect balance. 

And over the years I have come up with just about every possible arrangement of eggs to achieve this. 

I know. Whacko. But still. It is what is. 

And this?

One word.

NEVER.

Never, ever put empty eggshells back in the carton. 

Don't do it!

It's just...Ew.

And that's the thing about eggs.

(And by thing, I mean things.)