If the title of the post has brought you to here in the eggs-pectation that I’ll be cracking lots of egg-based puns then I’m sorry to disappoint, but I won’t be.
Apart from in that sentence.
Which I admit, looks a little misleading as disclaimers go.
But, much as I enjoy a good egg-based pun it’s eggs-hausting trying to crowbar them into whatever I’m writing, so I’m not going to do any more.
But if you want to leave some in the comments then feel free.
The comments section of a blog is the place for egg-based humour.
I look forward to seeing you there.
In the meantime I must write about the elephant in the room.
Which is not an actual elephant.
I’ve done a whole post about an actual elephant in the room before. It was hilarious. You can read it now if you click on these words.
The elephant in this post is entirely metaphorical. For the elephant in this room is none-other than the noble Easter Egg.
I know Easter isn’t really about the giving and receiving of chocolate eggs and frankly the worldwide pandemic is causing bigger issues than whether or not I get to eat a chocolate egg or two today.
But I like an Easter Egg. It reminds me of when I was a child. And given that I have really struggled over the last forty-one years with the whole ‘growing-up’ malarkey, I need things like overpriced chocolate eggs to keep my, rather loud, inner child happy. Also I have a rather loud ‘outer’ child who lives in my house. She’s my daughter.
Although she’s still only twenty months old so she doesn’t much care about Easter Eggs yet.
I’m certain she’d like an Easter Egg if I gave her one, because she does like chocolate.
Or she claims to like chocolate.
I mean she does like actual chocolate, but she tends to refer to lots of things that aren’t chocolate as chocolate. She often uses it as a synonym for things which look quite appealing to eat.
Sometimes it might be other nice things like gingerbread or cake.
But the other day I distinctly heard her refer to a stone she found in the garden as chocolate so I’m not sure her tastes are all that discerning yet.
But back to the eggs.
Often Mrs Proclaims and I will buy each other an Easter Egg. It’s one of many things we try to do to demonstrate that we like each other.
Which we do.
But in the current climate, we’re only supposed to go out to make essential purchases.
And it’s hard to argue that an Easter Egg is an essential purchase.
There were stories in the media about the police taking issue with certain shops who were selling Easter Eggs. It’s hard to imagine that could be down to the British media seizing on one or two incidents of slightly overzealous policing at a time of great confusion and uncertainty to provoke a reaction from an already bewildered and fearful public. That doesn’t sound like the British media at all…
Still, Easter Eggs have been on sale in the supermarkets, so, while it would seem irresponsible for Mrs Proclaims and I to have gone out specifically to buy them, I felt entirely justified in just shoving some into the trolley when I was braving Tesco for my essential weekly groceries recently.
There was an offer if you bought three so I bought three.
Which could be distributed evenly between my wife, my child and myself.
But, as discussed, Little Proclaims is really too young to have her own Easter Egg.
And if I’m honest, Mrs Proclaims didn’t desperately want one either.
So I may have purchased three largish chocolate eggs entirely for my own consumption.
Obviously my wife and daughter might have a bit of chocolate egg here and there to help me out.
But I’m going to be eating most of the chocolate myself.
On reflection, this may not have been a sensible purchase.
But the supermarkets are such stressful places these days.
So I think, by only getting three, I actually demonstrated great restraint.
And for the first time in a long time, there was plenty of toilet paper on the supermarket shelves this week, so if excessive chocolate consumption causes any undesirable effects, then I’m covered there too.