It’s been almost 6 years since I lived with anyone other than cats, and while Sean and I are cohabiting rather gracefully (well, as much as two complete and utter goofballs can), there are a few things we have to learn to establish when living with another person that will regularly move things in places you don’t expect.
For instance, eggs. I have a ladies’ protein drink with almond milk and a hard-boiled egg for breakfast almost every weekday. You can probably then understand my utter delight now that I have free*, fresh, amazing eggs growing out of our pets’ butts right in my own backyard! Perfect!
I’ll usually boil a few ahead of time and keep them in the fridge, just hanging out. Sean hadn’t quite caught on to the meaning of the random, unmarked eggs on the shelf in the fridge, and the other day he very nicely put them in a bowl with two fresh eggs he had just collected from the coop. Imagine my chagrin the next morning, rushing out the door, I go to grab an egg and find they had multiplied. 50% chance of cracking open a raw egg. Not going to risk it. The following text exchange then occurred over the course of the morning, leading to an absolutely different tangent:
Me: If you ever see an egg in the fridge that’s NOT in the egg carton, those are my hard boiled eggs. You added the fresh ones and now I can’t tell the difference. 😦 (Editor’s note: damn, I’m a bitch)
Sean: Oh honey I’m sorry I didn’t know 😦 (Editor’s note: great response!)
Me: Clif bar stolen in vengeance!
Sean: 😦 I’m so hungry…
Me: You brought your own food today! Baby. Plus I *did* buy them bars… (Editor’s note: the intricacies of grocery shopping for two have yet to be ironed out)
Sean: My bars!!! Mine!!
Me: Your bars, your balls… MINE!
Sean: I have no balls
Me: In Soviet Siskiyou, I teabag you!
Sean: Is good for workers’ morale yes? Onward to beautiful socialist future!
Me: Balls rested gently on the forehead of each and every comrade!
Solution? My hard boiled eggs now sit in their own little designated bowl in the fridge. Fresh eggs always go directly into the egg carton. Done. Cohabitation is a slice.