Some eggs are hard-boiled in their faith.
Those are easy to paint and put in the basket.
Then we can shuck them for later.
Others have no faith at all. They’ve been poked with holes, and everything blown out.
Those are just empty husks that we can glue shiny glitter to.
Then there’s the eggs in the middle. The ones that haven’t been hard-boiled or blown-out.
I call them the eggnostic eggs.
Can’t paint them, or they rot.
Can’t glue anything to them either.
I just crack them on the bowl, scramble them up, and pour ’em in the skillet.