I really did want to make an omelet, but how can I complain when that little ghost is so cheery?
I love all the signs of Spring everywhere. The birds chirping, the flower buds, the indiscriminate eating of sweets in broad daylight.
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I want to make an egg sandwiches, but the whole thing would just be eggs.
What sorcery, what devilry, what evil tricks were used to shape the yolks but not the whites of those hard boiled eggs?! I would like to learn this secret magic! Teach me your ways, o dark one!
I wish my real cat would cook eggs for me. Lazy good-for-nothing...
Just skip the super salty ham that your great aunt is making on Easter and head straight for the cake.