The devil in my eggs

The devil in my eggs

It started out as the “pity assignment”. I had finally married and it was now my duty to show up with a covered dish at every family event. But they knew that I couldn’t cook much besides Easy Mac and Ramen so they decided to do me a favor. The “easy” assignment for my first Easter was the deviled eggs.

Now I realize that this must seem simple to you too however I assure you it was not. You see, I can boil an egg but I cannot, for the life of me, peel an egg. I started out with 18 eggs, googled “boiling an egg”, and got to work. However, after I began peeling the eggs I realized this was much more difficult than I had anticipated. The shells were stuck to the eggs and the whites were coming off in huge clumps. HUGE! It looked like Edward Scissorhands had peeled these eggs. This was completely unacceptable.

I returned to the grocery store and purchased another 18 eggs. I came home, googled “how to boil and peel the perfect egg”, and started all over. Twenty minutes later I was on my way to the grocery store yet again. I came home with another 18 eggs and started the process over again.

Not being much of a housewife I also shoved every single shell down the garbage disposal. I made sure to run it every dozen or so but my efforts sadly failed and I ended up with a stopped up sink overflowing with bits of egg, shells, and whatever else was bubbling up from the abyss. It smelled kind of weird so I threw some lemon wedges in it and tried to grind those as well. Needless to say that didn’t help matters. My husband was none too happy and ended up having to go out and purchase some sort of plumbing equipment so he could “snake the drain” himself. (“He’s so handy…I sure did get a good one,” I congratulated myself.)

Out of the 54 eggs I had boiled and peeled I managed to salvage about 12 eggs that could be “deviled” and displayed on the beautiful new deviled egg platter I had received as a wedding gift. 

Of course I became the laughing stock of the family dinner as I recounted the horrendous 7 hours to get 12 deviled eggs. They patted me on the head and with a knowing look in their eye declared “you’ll get better at it honey”. The wives all began sharing stories of domestic mishaps in their early days of marriage and we all had a grand time laughing at our naiveté. 

The next Easter rolled around and I was prepared. I knew this would be my assignment. I went to Sam’s Club and bought a 5 dozen box of eggs. Yes, you can actually buy 5 dozen at a time. I began with fervor (and a new recipe) but alas I was having the same results. At this point it became a mission. Another 60 eggs had yielded me another clogged up sink and 14 deviled eggs. My husband, at this point, revoked my right to use the garbage disposal and instituted a “no food in the sink” rule that very night. (I don’t know what his problem was I mean we owned our own drain snake.)

Year after year I was assigned the task of the deviled eggs. And year after year it became a loathsome task. I have tried every recipe under the sun. An immediate ice bath, baking soda, salt, vinegar, let them sit in the fridge over night, peel them immediately, use old eggs, use new eggs, you name it and I’ve tried it. The simple fact remains that I CANNOT do this.

And here I am 10 years into my marriage angrily peeling these godforsaken things and cursing the eggs and the holiday and the bunny that brought them here. And I realized something…

I don’t HAVE to make the deviled eggs!

As if a lightbulb went on in my head and I suddenly realized that I am an adult. I am a mom to 3 small children. I don’t have to wait for my covered dish “assignment” anymore and I don’t have to bring the deviled eggs!! I can simply say no OR I can swing by the Bi Lo and pick up some perfectly crafted deviled eggs that will fit just fine in my Reed & Barton deviled egg plate and no one will be any the wiser. In fact it will probably be cheaper for me to buy them than to burn through another 5 dozen to get 12 anyway!.

“I’M NOT DOING THE DEVILED EGGS. ANYMORE!!!!!” I shout with gusto. It is my manifesto, my right. And I am making my stand. And with this, I take my bow.

Happy Easter everyone. May the devil stay out of your eggs.

One thought on “The devil in my eggs

  1. Might I remind you that you did actually volunteer to bring the deviled eggs this Easter!!! I certainly hope they are not two week old Bi-Lo eggs! Ha!

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