French Toast and Stress Relief Oil

I bought this product years ago that calls itself Stress Relief Oil. At the time I had a minor wrench in one of my ankles - too much Stairmaster - and this stuff came in a cool metal bottle with a pump, and I was on the hunt for TLC and was well and truly seduced by the stuff. I rubbed it on every morning and evening and quite frankly it probably had no useful ingredient in it at all but it smelt nice, and had an appropriate name, and in a few days the pain was all gone. I never finished it, lost interest in it and it found its way into the Red Bag of Doom. The Red Bag of Doom is a freebie make up bag I was given by a sales assistant at Clarins once, into which I put all my discarded skincare to languish. Every 5 years or so I clean it out, chuck virtually everything that is in there away, and start again. In the last few days I have got so fed up with ice blocks on my feet I have decided to change tack and, emptying out the Red Bag of Doom, I found my placebo buddy. I smeared it on my knee and my foot and rubbed and rubbed and rubbed, and yep, it may not be helping but it's MUCH nicer than frostbite. Emboldened by the nice warm feeling in the knee and the foot I decide to treat my family to French Toast. Or cinnamon bread or whatever you call it in your particular world. Do they call it French Toast in France? Asks one of my kids, totally innocently, and after pondering I say, I have no idea but I'd hazard a guess that they definitely don't. My family last had French Toast in a safari lodge in South Africa and have been begging for it ever since. I have been refusing to make it, as for no obvious reason, especially not for someone who bakes cakes of a thousand calories, it has been on my Too Fattening List, along with Mars Bars (and not much else). But Stress Relief Oil does not just loosen up my stiff new metatarsals, it also makes me a nicer person. Or more of a sucker. Either way, I find myself beating up egg, milk and cinnamon, and dipping leftover challah in it. Challah is brilliant. A fraction of the cost of brioche and the great thing about it is, you have it in your bread bin EVERY weekend to play with. I fry it up, dot it with syrup, dust it with icing sugar, and serve it up to my disbelieving family, who dispatch it in a matter of seconds.