I've been eating a lot of eggs in the last few days. Scrambling them with vidalia onions, cherry tomatos, bacon, and cheese, frying them up gently and eating them with lots of salt and pepper. Lunch today is egg salad, by itself because I don't have anything flat and breadlike to put it on, and I'm ok with that. I am eating the eggs like there's no tomorrow. Yesterday, I even bought a little egg cup so that I could eat eggs in yet another way (and also knit them a bunch of little minisweater cozies).
Yes, I am loving the eggs, which is strange. I don't, usually. There was a day when I would run gagging from the room if someone began to crack one into a bowl. But now, I'm eating them. With relish. A lot.
Is it because it's hot, and they are a nutritious, self-contained little package of food that's easy and fast to prepare? Is it because they're cheap? Why am I suddenly fixated on all things ovoi-
oh.
no.
Oh dear.
My subconscious is weird.
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a long-distance, mother-daughter outfit
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