Last night, we decided to decorate Easter eggs. Jerry had purchased two dye kits: a SpongeBob-themed one because, oh, he completely abhors the show, and a crazy awesome paint-it-yourself one that made my creations look so awesome that I momentarily considered quitting my job and selling boiled egg art for a living.
As usual, Jerry announced that he would be making an egg for "everyone," which usually means he busts out the wax pencil, scrawls a name on an egg and dunks it in a color he thinks is indicative of that individual. Toby got orange and a creepy lamb sticker that sort of looked like him if he had an enormous coat of wool. I got a blue one that was supposed to be purple, but the dye sucked. Then he made a general one for both of our moms that actually used the blue dye.
When he put a fourth one down and announced that everyone was taken care of, I figured he had made one for himself. Instead, I looked at our drying spot -- a cooling rack with a cookie tray underneath -- to see he had labeled a yellow egg "FETUS."
"Aw, of course, fetus!" I said.
But he couldn't leave it at that.
"Maybe I should make that one better," he said. "It's too boring."
Then he proceeded to pick up the fetus egg and drop it on the table, causing the shell to crack on impact.
"YOU JUST DROPPED OUR BABY!" I yelled, laughing.
A very concerned look spread across his face. "Aw, man!"
"It's a good thing you never had to carry around an egg in school for home-ec class or you would've failed!"
"Now what? Do I eat that one and make another one for the fetus?"
"YOU WANT TO EAT OUR FETUS?!"
"Wait, I ..."
"AND YOU DO REALIZE THAT YOU CAN'T JUST MAKE ANOTHER ONE IF YOU DROP THIS ONE, RIGHT? I MEAN, IT DOESN'T WORK THAT WAY!"
I guess I just couldn't resist having a little fun at his expense. I mean, the situation was just too full of analogies not to take advantage.
As is tradition, we stood back and assessed our creations when we were finished and picked out our favorite egg.
The fetus egg won hands down.
Flaws and all.