This morning my Mr. Wonderful cooked an egg for my daughter and I for breakfast. He makes excellent eggs. He just doesn’t eat them. The only way he eats eggs is in cakes or cookies.
I only eat one kind of pan fried egg and it’s to my parents credit that I even eat one kind of fried egg. They cooked them any way I wanted until I found one specific way that I would eat a pan fried egg.
My parents eat eggs about any way they are cooked and a lot of times on weekends when I was growing up they would make eggs for breakfast. Every now and then they would make me eat an egg also.
I could pick which way I wanted it cooked and I usually picked “flat.” I didn’t want any gooey yellow stuff on my plate. So I would have toast and a “flat” egg to eat before I could leave the table.
Do you know how disgusting a cold, flat egg is? I almost gag now to think about it. Of course, it was my own fault it was cold. My sister eats them in sandwiches. Can you imagine? She would choose to eat an egg sandwich for lunch! Oh my.
I remember one time when I was elementary age we were going to my grandma’s. Since both sets of grandparents were about 2 and a half hours away we didn’t go often and it was something I looked forward to.
Guess what I had for breakfast that morning? Yup, an egg. I can still see it in my mind. Exactly where the table was, the door opening and closing while they loaded the car, and that egg on my plate. As far as I know I finished that egg because I really wanted to go to my grandma’s. I know that they didn’t leave me behind.
I still don’t eat “flat” eggs to this day. My daughter loves them – with ketchup on them. Go figure.