Egg man...

I broke my own Personal Best yesterday, buying from three separate supermarkets within a twenty four hour period.  This is because there are MEN in my house, who as we mums know, will eat anything with a pulse which stops moving long enough.  The girls tend to pick at what ever is on offer at mealtimes, whereas the males in the house just pick all day, hovering around the fridge like a pack of salivating hyenas.

The reason I had to do more shopping yesterday, having had a massive Tesco delivery on Sunday, was because the husband incinerated (sorry, barbecued) the chickens which were to be for the week's lunches, so more were needed.  The barbecue had also been all encompassing, with sons one and two and daughter number one bringing everything to the table which just might go with the barbecue.  Subsequently, there were gaps in my food availability for the menus planned for the coming week.

First stop after work yesterday was the Co-op.  In there for chickens, red peppers, yet more eggs and some wraps to go with the fajitas planned for last night.  While there, I decided that it would be a lovely idea to bake an Easter cake for all those at Binland, so icing sugar and a packet of Mini Eggs were added to my purchases.

I came home, only to find that the boys had polished off the dozen eggs which had been residing quietly by the hob.  The pasta had all gone, as had the new pack of spring onions (last week's bunch, although a little shabby looking, was still edible but that had been set aside in favour of the newer ones).  Dropping the bags on the counter, I headed out again to town, going into Waitrose this time. 

More eggs, two more packs of Mini Eggs, as son number one had polished off the bag I'd already bought in the six minutes between coming in and going out again, and then back home again.

So the cakes were finally made and decorated (there was one bag of Mini Eggs left over, but that went the way of all flesh once son number two espied them on the worktop).  I left son number one in charge of last night's dinner (lamb fajitas) and when I came back after a last walk with the fuzzballs, I noticed my electric hand mixer was out.  'Why's that out?' I asked, desperately trying to fathom what he would've used it for.

Well apparently, he fancied guacamole, and rather than using the fresh tub I had purchased, he chose to mash up the one avocado I'd bought for my lunches this week.

I'm going to buy a padlock for that bloody fridge...




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