Too Cute to be Eaten

The Egg Who Dreamed in Bows

Silly Little Fables by Evangelione

Once upon a breakfast, there sat a hard-boiled egg in a quiet kitchen, still warm from the pot and tucked in a little blue egg cup.

Every morning, the other eggs told stories of glory — of omelets in Paris, of poached elegance on toast. But this egg… this egg had a dream.

“I want to be a Fabergé egg,” it whispered to the butter knife. “All shiny, all sparkle. Covered in bows and tiny things that click open to reveal secrets.”

“Not just eaten and forgotten. I want to be admired.”

The butter knife said nothing. It was not the helpful kind.

So the egg rolled gently off the counter (onto a pillow it had pushed there earlier — it was a careful dreamer) and began its transformation.

It found an old button from under the table. A bit of string from the drawer. A torn scrap of ribbon from a forgotten gift tag. Slowly, shyly, it tied little tiny bows around itself — a little crooked, a little brave.

By the end of the afternoon, it didn’t quite look like a Fabergé egg. But it looked… determined. Loved. Absolutely the fanciest egg the kitchen had ever seen.

That evening, the human came into the kitchen, saw the small, ribbons covered egg sitting proudly on the floor, and gasped.

“Oh!” she said. “You’re too cute to eat.”

She picked up the egg and placed it gently on a shelf next to her little porcelain birds.

And there it sat, proud and whole — not cracked, not peeled, not forgotten.

A hard-boiled egg who believed in beauty, and in trying.

And it became something better than a Fabergé egg.

It became a story

“Attention, attention! This is not a drill—eggs in the house! Repeat, eggs in the house! Please proceed with caution and watch your step. These little shells are on a mission and we’d like to avoid any scrambles!”