Over Egged

Today marked the end of my annual Easter Egg Hunt puzzle competition thingy, so I duly headed off to Asda, purveyors of the cheapest multibuy special offer chocolate ovoids that money can buy. I am amazed to discover that the eggs are consideraly cheaper than in previous years, probably largely as a result of a cost reducing eco-friendly packaging reduction ploy.

This is rather handy, since I’m on a bit of a budget and have received a record number of entries. A long night of marking them all awaits.

Anyhoo, I fill half the space in my trolley with eggs. The other half is filled with cat food and wine.

I hear a child’s voice. “It’s Mrs TLC,” says the voice, “Mrs TLC and a right lot of eggs.”

I look around, but there are a lot of children in the vicinity of the Easter egg aisle and I fail to spot anyone I recognise, so I do my best impersonation of a madwoman and smile cheerily at everyone.

Having successfully triggered a variety of eye contact avoidance reflexes in the majority of my fellow shoppers, I turn back to my trolley and am just starting to head for the checkout when I hear the child’s voice again.

“I might win one of those eggs. That’s a right lot of eggs.”

Do I imagine the adult voice that replies so quietly I can hardly hear them? Am I being paranoid when I think I hear someone mention a right lot of wine? Maybe.

Whatever, I scoot off to pay without a backward glance.

I wonder how much of the wine will remain by the time I’ve sorted this enormous pile of Easter Egg Hunt entry forms?

The boring but true answer: almost all of it.

It is a school night you know. 😉

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