Eggsplosion
About seven seconds after opening my first eyelid to let some light slip in… I realized I was craving amino acids. I was craving vitamin A, B, D and E. I was craving iron, calcium and omega 3. I was craving yellow and white.
I was craving you, egg. Oh, I wanted you bad.
Nearly drowning in an ocean of saliva, my eight-hour-rested legs carried me with pride towards the kitchen. (Between you and me, though - I went back-first down the staircase in a sloth-like manner, like this.)
Sure, it was a long way - but endurance is the son of motivation - and I had a clear goal.
Several meters and one sneeze later I found myself in the kitchen. Relocation: check! Sweet, I’m progressing. My hand grappled the fridge door handle and pulled the door open with surprising ease. It’s almost… as if it expected me…
The first thing I laid my eyes on was a beautiful egg carton. Or actually, it was rather rugged and had some sort of milk stains on it. But for the first time in history since the cliché was coined - I truly and utterly loved her for what she had on the inside. Funny how the hosting of eggs is usually the very thing that scare men away from women.
Once again my hand opening action came to good use. Carefully opening the carton, didn’t want to spoil the moment. A little more. Just a little more. Almost now. And thar she was. What a magnificent beast. So white, so eggish in general.
I taped up a nice bath for her in my finest cooking pot, and put her on the stove plate to heat up. “You enjoy yourself now, egg. I’ll see you in about seven minutes. Oh, and wear something nice.” I intended to get at least to first base.
Aah finally, some me-time so I can get my space. I went to the living room and started reading an article. Wow, interesting. Very interesting indeed. After a couple of minutes of clicking around I found myself, again, looking at funny videos of cats and dogs doing what cats and dogs do best - being all spontaneous and adorable.
Then it happened. Just as I was about to find out if the dog in the video would ever figure out that the tail belonged to himself. There was a loud and powerful explosion that scared me so hard I went alligator. After the initial boom I heard a sound that could only be described as a thousand mosquitoes performing a sequence of enthusiastic high-fives with wet hands.
After landing on my chair again and equipping myself with some brand-spanking new underwear, I hurried over to the kitchen to investigate. Oh. My. a-God. It was her - the egg. The prosperous saint that was about to change my world had exploded right here in my own kitchen. While I was observing cats licking their loins, the water in the pot had vaporized and the egg was almost catching fire. It didn’t though - it exploded.
But what was the mosquito thing? I’ll tell you all about it. The sound was generated by small parts of egg shooting through the shell with a massive force, and finally sticking to precious things in my kitchen. Kitchen only? Why stop there? It. Was. Everywhere. On the walls, the ceiling, the windows, the floor, my cookbooks. Pretty much everywhere except in the pot.
Sigh, without the energy from the egg I won’t be able to clean it up either. Where are those dogs and cats when you need them…
