So we know I’m caucasian.
…and so I looked into the fridge and was ecstatic to see that we still had eggs.
But would we have enough eggs for an omelette? Personally, I’m not one of those two-egg omelette guys. If you’re going to make an omelette you don’t want the outer skin to be like skin. You want it to be thicker. More stable. It’s got to be able to hold the insides without breaking. But fortunately, there were six eggs in the egg carton.
And then I looked at the date. They had expired two days prior.
I stood there, contemplating the next step. I could make the omelette with the two-day old eggs and see if they smelled old and proceed from there. An old wives tale once told the story of how bad eggs made themselves known by turning green or smelling like the dead carcass of a boar. While I didn’t necessarily believe in such wives tales (or green leprechauns for that matter), I decided to move forward and make the ham, cheese and egg omelette I had so desired.
And then I turned on the stove — and nothing came out but gas.
I stood there, contemplating the next step. I could try to make the omelette using only gas, but there would be no heat. Since I stood there contemplating the next step while the gas filled the kitchen, I wondered about the old wives tale about how lighting a match in a gas-filled kitchen could cause an explosion. While I didn’t necessarily believe in such wives tales (or matches causing gas stations to explode), I decided to continue towards my ultimate goal of having an egg omelette.
And I’m still here.
There was no explosion. No green smelly boarish eggs. Just a nice, thicker-than-skin omelette with four eggs and ham and shredded melted cheese. I threw a party for myself and my omelette by using the other two remaining eggs as one-time only maracas — since, as you very well know, if you use eggs for maracas you only get one glorious CRASH before the maracas are broken and oily.
But that’s when I smelled the oily broken maraca eggs and realized they had gone bad.
I had eaten a bad egg omelette.
Do you ever eat something bad, but don’t know you ate something bad until after you ate something bad, thus making your head wander about whether or not the badness would eventually come back up and make you sick?
Well, that’s today’s egg story.