I just finished making some eggs for the kids. They weren’t cooking fast enough for me so I turned up the heat. Then walked away.
I come back to my scrambled eggs looking more like an omelet. A quick stir to scramble and I see that, shit, they’ve browned on the underside. Now I have white eggs with brown spots. Shit shit shit.
My picky eaters are not going to eat this.
“Quick what can I say?” I think to myself….
“Oh that’s just brown sugar kids! Yum!”
Brown sugar on eggs…scrambled eggs with brown sugar? Hmmm, not so sure that will go over well.
I know, “Oh honey that’s cinnamon” again, picky Mr. Cam will NOT be going for cinnamon on his eggs.
Eggs are supposed to be fluffy, yellow-white with NO brown spots.
I can see me having to throw away the eggs.
I gently place it on the table, yelling in a super excited, yummy voice…yes, voices or inflections can be yummy, didn’t you know?
“Eggs are ready, yummy-nummy! Come on guys!”
My son comes, checks out his bowl…
“Oh. wow. you burned them.”
Me: “Oh no, they are just browned, that makes it good”
He sits down. And. He. EATS. Them!
Woohoo, crisis diverted. Nothing to stress about.
Yes I stress about these things….
That was my morning…Stressing about white eggs and brown spots.
The kids are sick. They were up all night, which means I was up all night and I am TIRED! This is my post for today…a minute into my life…
(omg, as I wrote this, Mr picky eater of the century, Cameron, finished the entire bowl of white eggs with brown spots! wow. I’m in shock. Crap, now I know he’s REALLY sick.)
(on the other hand, the other kid, well she pretended to eat it but most of the white eggs and brown spots are now covering my floor…moments like this I really miss having a dog)