I’ve been trying to walk on eggshells, as the saying goes, with less than successful results. You can’t walk on an egg without it breaking, I’ve discovered. And when the path before you is a minefield of eggs it take more patience and finesse than I currently posses to tiptoe through without cracking a few.
That, unfortunately, makes me want to jump and stomp the rest of the way through the uncooked breakfast. Or tell it to grow up and become a chicken already. (This would be a very bad idea, I know.)
While pondering personalities that possess the fortitude of a fragile eggshell, some other egg idioms came to mind.
If you’re a good egg, you’re dependable or of good character. Hopefully, your eggshell has developed a thicker skin less prone to cracking, too.
If you egg someone on, by daring or pressuring them into something they aren’t comfortable doing, you’re not being such a good egg after all. In fact, if this is a character flaw and not an isolated act, you might be considered a rotten egg.
If you have egg on your face, you did something that’s come back to embarrass you. Sometimes you get egg on your face while trying to walk on eggshells but more often you get egg on your face after someone has egged you on.
If you put all your eggs in one basket, you’re vulnerable because they could all break at once. The apparent wisdom is to spread your eggs around so eggshell walkers only break a few.
If you spread your financial eggs around you have better odds of growing a nest egg, one that actually matures into a chicken. This brings us back to the goal of growing up.
It appears that most egg expressions imply that this easily broken beginning should be protected in hopes of achieving chickenhood, though you shouldn’t count your chickens before they hatch.
I’ll avoid an analysis of other chicken expressions and go back to the egg, not knowing if it or the chicken came first. It doesn’t much matter when you’re staring at a broken egg. The only thing to do at that point is make an omelet. (Which is great post-run refueling food, by the way.)
When faced with social interactions strewn with fragile eggs, as yet unbroken, what do you do?
Do you try to walk on eggshells or do you jump straight to making omelets? Why?