Lately, LIly has been throwing open the windows with dramatic optimism. Is it still cold? Yes. Is there still a sneaky winter breeze creeping into the kitchen? Also yes.
But Lily has decided it’s spring anyway. She’s already dreaming of fresh flowers, a sunlit table, and an Easter party filled with laughter and far too much chocolate.
To get into the mood, she buys a bag of chocolate eggs — the kind meant for decorating, enjoying with coffee, or placing in a tasteful bowl for guests.
She stores them in the pantry. High shelf. Out of sight. Very strategic.
Two days later, she opens the cupboard. Half the bag is gone. Lily lives with her husband and three young adults — technically grown humans, or at least they like to think so. Yet whenever chocolate eggs enter the house, everyone mysteriously reverts to their most basic instincts.
“No idea,” says one, chewing slowly.
“Strange,” says another, casually holding a bit of suspiciously crinkly foil.
Lily briefly considers a full investigation. Instead, she sighs, buys another bag, and hides this one in a different cupboard. Surely this time it will last longer.
Spring is coming, after all.
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