the story of the eggs

how should the story begin? right in the midst of it would be best i think.

there i was, with more plastic bags in the supermarket trolley than i can handle, and my ride for the trip back home already at the door waiting. it was then that i saw a solitary carton of eggs crying out meekly for my attention, isolated from its other supermarket grocery mates that were already sitting snugly in the bags. clearly this one has not been paid for. perhaps it was hidden obscured from attention by other plastics in the trolley, but there i was with both hands full and late. do i go back to pay for it or do i just put it in the bag? i felt like a hundred eyes were on me, all staring and waiting to see what i would do. when i finally snuck a peek, the rest of the world was just going about their own things, nary an idea of the turmoil inside me.

do i or don't i, that is the question. after a moment of indecisiveness, i took the easier alternative and placed the carton inside the plastic bag, along with the other items that have been paid for and made my way up the escalator. the weight in my heart kept getting heavier and heavier as i went higher and higher. at the top of the escalator, i turned around and made my way down again. it took me forever to come up with the decision to keep or not to keep but it took me a split second when i knew i had to do what was right. i cannot imagine spending the rest of the day, the rest of the night and even the rest of my life regretting this second, unable to rewind and undo. i wanted to be able to erase this from my memory and forget that it ever happened, just like any other day in my daily life.

you may think that i am telling this story to boast about how pure and righteous i am. on the contrary, i am irked by many things; my indecisiveness, my hypocritical virtuousness and how i make my own life so difficult.

27 years ago, when i was still in university, my boyfriend and i decided to splurge on some hot wings from a fast food chain, which shall not be named in case they read this and decided to come after me 27 years later (who knows the statute of limitations on these kind of things. ok, i'm being paranoid). as a student, we were generally frugal and eating out is a luxury reserved for special days. however, we were working hard on our thesis and tired from the continuous work, day in and day out. being thrifty, we ordered for 1 box of wings to share. can you imagine the exhilaration and delight we felt when the man behind the counter gave us 2 boxes? you would have thought that we struck first prize for the national lottery that day. we snuck a peek at each other, clamped our mouth shut and ran out of the door as quickly as possible whilst trying to look inconspicuous at the same time. all the way home, we kept looking back to see if the man had realised his mistake and came running after us.

the hot wings have never tasted better. one box was not quite enough to share between us, but now, with one box each, we ate to our hearts' content. it was the best feeling in the world; a little delight plus a little guilt plus a lot of hot yummy chicken. we figured the famous fast food chain could afford to lose a little in this one exceptional incident. the exhilaration was much more than the guilt, i have to confess. to this day and age, not many other incidents have brought us as much elation and excitement.

now, presently, i am not sure i will be able to do it again. is it because i have grown older? is it because i am now a mother of two? is it because i can no longer preach one thing but do another? with age, comes not just wisdom but burden. no more fun naughty memories to create, only responsible calculated moves.

it was sure fun to be young.