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The boy spotted these brown eggs in the dairy aisle of our local grocery store. He politely asked me to pick up a dozen of these brown eggs.
I did.
Later he said, “I’m ready for my chocolate eggs now.”
Instead, I taught him how to poach an egg. Click here to watch him.
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[...] his big brothers are away at school, the boy, who believes brown eggs are chocolate, and I spend our mornings together cooking ourselves a feast. Because Eggs Are So Incredible and [...]
Aww. Was he very disappointed the eggs were not chocolate? That is just so cute.
He’s such a doll.
Yeah, I don’t get to do as much as I used to, but I’m around. We take care of what’s important – blogging comes 2nd.
i would like some chocolate eggs, too.
or poached. they’re both yummy
[...] aspect of my life. My cupboards are stripped to the basics: tea mugs, bowls and plates; and the egg poacher, of [...]
[...] grow up to be an old man who loved them. And, could there be something wrong with a little boy who learned how to poach an egg before he learned to make [...]
[...] wearing his black cardboard mortar board, and I’ll remember the intimate lunches we shared of poached egg sandwiches, tuna with capers and sometimes, simply the warm comfort of cream of wheat. My eyes will well with [...]