{ . . . }

Dear eggs:

I know you’re the yum that makes French toast worth eating, but in any other dish, you smell rather pukey, and I do include any dish involving mayonnaise or Miracle Whip. Why can’t you smell more like unicorns and glitter? I have had to flee upstairs because I don’t trust my stomach not to lurch at the inevitable reek of egg salad.

I would like to enjoy you, but your smell and I do not agree.

I’m so sorry.

C.

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