MY FROZEN EGGS

Did you know that you can freeze your eggs? And that they defrost and can be used at a later date?
Ha. Well lest you think that this blog is about my delayed desire to procreate which has been made possible by science, think again. (SSMG is having heart failure at this moment.)
I'm talking about eggs. You know, the kind you scramble and fry. Apparently they freeze. I found this out when I opened a new carton yesterday to make scrambed eggs, and I couldn't break the shell. I got scared. It wouldn't budge and I knew I was going to have to crack it really hard, but I was so afraid of what I might find inside. I mean, why would the shell of an egg be so thick and hard that you couldn't crack it? Maybe, maybe, there was - dare I say it? - a little chickie inside? Ick!
When I did crack the shell, instead of it oozing and dripping out like it usually does, it kind of stayed solid inside. I poked around and discovered an egg the consistency of shaved ice cones. (Just ruined your summer, huh?) The egg had frozen in my too cold refrigerator. I persevered, because that's the kind of woman I am. After mixing it with a bit of milk and doing that thing you do with your wrist and a fork when you're scrambling eggs (which, by the way, is really hard on the forearm and has given me veins the size of climbing ropes) it loosened up and lo and behold, my scrambed eggs were delicious thanks to a little cheddar cheese and butter. But I'm still a little grossed out.
So lest you think I was getting political, feministic or interesting in any way on my blog, no. I'm just talking about scrambled eggs.
(Though the whole idea of freezing my eggs did kind of intrigue me at one point. I mean, what if, at like 60 years old I regret not having children? Then I could just defrost one of those little boogers and BOOM! Well, not BOOM really. I'm sure it takes more than a BOOM to create a child out of a frozen egg. And if I didn't use my egg, maybe someone else would want it and then I could have made a lot of money at a time when I have none and I'm living on frozen eggs. But I digress.)
Speaking of babies, when we returned from our trip there was a holocaust of ants in our house. It was carnage everywhere. Dead ants and their little body parts strewn across our floor. I cleaned it all up, put out ant poison that kills the nest and thought it was all under control, but now, a new generation of ants seems to have invaded. Baby ants all over the place. Coming back for revenge I imagine. Or maybe to look for their long lost parents and aunts and uncles. It's sad really, but they will have to go. Unfortunately for them, this is a baby free zone. No frozen eggs, no baby carrots and no - I repeat NO - baby insects of any sort.
The bubble is rated R.