Let's roll out some copy. The fancy gewgaws can wait.
This morning, the #1 son demanded that I make him breakfast at 10:15. I tried to stall. If I could stretch it out, it would be lunch time. And anyway, a 16-year-old should be perfectly capably of making his own breakfast. Right?
He wanted eggs. Scrambled. Three of them. I explained that I was busy watching The View. Not because I like it, but because I like to hate it. And next on my agenda was a shower. #1 decided that he could not wait. He was famished from laying in bed all morning. So he set out to make his own breakfast.
RED FLAG!
This is the boy who burned his arm taking potato skins out of the oven. The one who put his teeth through his lip while performing gymnastic maneuvers between the cutting block and the counter. I did not feel comfortable soaking in the shower while my kitchen might be going up in flames. So I continued watching The View while #1 busied himself with gathering the fixin's for his breakfast.
"How much oil do I use?"
"Enough to just cover the bottom of the pan. You don't need a cup of oil like your dad uses."
"Do I use our eggs or the store-bought eggs?"
"What do mean?"
"I mean, isn't Dad saving some of these to sell? There are some cartons on the bottom shelf, and another one on the second shelf."
"I haven't bought eggs since the last holiday when I made deviled eggs. You'd better check the date on the carton."
"I just used them last time I made myself scrambled eggs."
"Oh. So you DO know how to cook them."
"Well, it's easier if I can get you to do it. Hey! This carton says January!"
"Throw them out."
"But I just ate some and I was fine."
"How long ago?"
"About a month."
"Do you really want to eat them now?"
"I guess not."
"Are you beating them in a red Solo cup?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"It sounds like your fork is coming out the side of the cup. Be careful. You'll crack it."
"Meh, meh, meh. It was a lot easier without you telling me what to do."
"Are you heating the oil?"
"Yes. I hate this. It's so hard to crack these eggs."
"I don't know why. They're easier than the store-bought eggs."
I couldn't take it any longer. Elisabeth was going to have to take on the four harpies without any assistance today. Something didn't seem right. I went into the kitchen and found the boy stirring the eggs like they were nitroglycerin.
"Here. That's not how you whip the eggs. The goal is to get air into them. So they turn out fluffy."
"Oh. That would explain why my last eggs were not very fluffy."
"That, or the fact that you used 6-month-old eggs. Now. They're ready to pour in. Where's your turner?"
"I might need to get that out now. Hey! What did you do with that fork?"
"I put it in the sink to soak."
"I was going to eat with that."
"With raw egg on it? I don't think so."
"I was going to wipe it off."
"Not good enough. Here. I wiped it off. With soap and water."
"This is impossible."
"You might want to divide that up into sections instead of trying to turn the whole pan full."
"I might."
"Look out! Now it's running down the side of the pan."
"Meh, meh, meh."
"Hey! That piece went down under the burner. You could start a fire! I'm so glad I came in here."
"You might as well do it for me."
"I don't think so. And if you had so much trouble cracking those eggs, what was that sound I heard? When I thought you were stirring too hard."
"Oh, that was when I was trying to crack open the eggs."
"How hard can that be? You just tap them on the edge of the counter."
"What? I was trying to crack them on the rim of the cup."
"On a Solo cup? No wonder you had trouble."
"That's how Dad does it."
"That explains it. I don't know how you're going to survive in college."
"Yeah. I won't know how to cook eggs on the stove I won't have in my dorm."
"You won't live in the dorm forever."
"True. But they require everybody to live in the dorm for the first two years."
"Uh huh. Because they know you're all so stupid."
"Ha ha."
"You need to get that egg out from under the burner."
"How?"
"The coil pulls out. Wait until it's cool."
"I really need to get married soon so I don't have to learn this stuff."
Seriously. Cracking eggs on the side of a Solo cup?
Hehe! Just think of how much your future daughter in law will love you when she finds out that he knows how to crack eggs properly! ;-)
ReplyDeletePS--can't wait to hear how the laundry goes...
That's funny that he thinks his future wife is going to cook his eggs and clean for him. Kids. :P
ReplyDeletelol
ReplyDeleteI'm with both of the previous commenters.
labbie,
ReplyDeleteAs a matter of fact, the marriage comment came about as he followed me into the laundry room.
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Chick,
Yeah. I suppose he got that idea from someone at school. Because his dad knows better.
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MommyNeeds,
You've got a ways to go before you can marry off your young'un(s).