"Oh no, not again"
I look down at the silver foil, aware that I'm echoing the sentiments of the only known Geranium to have its thoughts recorded (1) and realise that my fingers are already covered with goo.
Herself looks over and shakes her head as she spots the piece of silver as it catches the light, sees the gunk on my hands, "How come you always get it?"
It's true - we've eaten more than our fair share of chocolate eggs this Easter and every time we go to unwrap one I find that it's always me that gets the egg that has leaked.
The idea is simple: a chocolate egg with a mixture of white and yellow sugary contents (I won't name the product, as they don't actually pay me anything for advertising and, much like the BBC of old, we prefer to remain product free here at DFTP). However, whatever sealing technique they use (probably yet another form of sugar) it always seems to be me that gets the one that has leaked: meaning that I spend the first five minutes of the eating experience peeling every last trace of silver paper from the egg and covering my hands in see-through goop.
Herself looks at her pristine, leak-free egg and shrugs, 'Always you' she says, 'How come I always get the one that's ok'
Sometime later, and I'm not going to say exactly how much later - as that would reveal the extent of our combined gluttony over Easter, Herself returns to the slowly diminishing stockpile (imagine the size of one of those mountains of butter that the European Union used to create when we over-produced and they were forced to store the excess and you'll be on the right lines) and selects two more eggs. I go to shake my hand and say "enough chocolate today dear", as is my traditional feeble attempt to pretend that I'm not going to eat it, before grudgingly accepting.
Half-way to her seat Herself looks at the egg that she has chosen for herself and has an epiphany. She reaches over and swaps the egg in my hand for hers: and surely there was never a more pertinent exhibition of love than attempting to stop one's other half from getting icky fingers??
She unwraps her egg. It is, of course, pristine.
I unwrap mine
"Oh no, not again!"
1) see the Hitch-Hiker's Guide To The Galaxy