Last weekend, I decided to make breakfast burritos for my girlfriend and me—because honestly, who doesn’t love cramming breakfast, lunch, and dinner into one convenient wrap? Think of all the time you save knocking out three square meals at once. Although, come to think of it, can we even call them “square meals”? Shouldn’t they be “triangle meals” since triangles have three sides? And while we’re at it, what kind of triangle are we talking about here? Isosceles? Right triangle? Because no balanced meal plan is complete without a little trigonometry.
But I’ve gone off on a tangent—how fitting, given all this geometry talk. Enough with the mathematics—that’s for eggheads. Anyway, burritos don’t make themselves, so back to the kitchen.
So, there I was, cracking eggs like a professional chef (or at least someone who binge-watches cooking shows), when I hit a plot twist: one egg had two yolks inside. That’s right—TWO yolks. No yolk, I couldn’t believe it. My girlfriend thought maybe they were twins. This got me thinking about Chicken Little’s evil twin, Chicken Big—a fowl so foul, he’s even turned Popeyes into Wimpys, and now they’re serving hamburgers instead.
Naturally, this raised some serious questions. Did this mean Chicken Big was recruiting an army of henchmen, two yolks at a time? And should we be worried about bird flu? Because let’s be real, chicken noodle soup isn’t exactly a cure-all for an outbreak of villainous birds with a feverish thirst for power.
A quick internet search told me that double-yolk eggs are uncommon but totally harmless. Apparently, young hens sometimes get a little overexcited and release two yolks at once. It’s considered good luck—like finding a four-leaf clover, except gooier and with more cholesterol. If I were really lucky, though, I’d have cracked open an egg laid by the goose from that old fairy tale—the one with the golden eggs. Just imagine: a gold yolk, cooked into the world’s fanciest omelet, served on fine china with truffle shavings and diamonds for garnish.
Still, to avoid tempting fate—or Chicken Big—we decided not to use the double yolk. Breakfast was still egg-celent, even without golden omelets or trigonometry on the side. If you want the recipe, it’s all scribbled in my finest chicken scratch—no protractor required.