The Egg Story

Daniel loves to watch me cook. He pulls his stool up to the kitchen counter and listens to pans sizzle and watches me stir things. A few nights ago he watched me crack eggs into a bowl while we were making cookies (I sound so domesticated with the last sentence!) He reached out for the egg, but I told him it was yucky to touch and we stirred it in the pot. Little did I know that Daniel filed that away in his 'it may be yucky, but I must try it sometime' file.

Fast forward a day and my mother and I and Daniel are grocery shopping together. My mother picks up a huge 2 and 1/2 dozen eggs carton and lays them in the cart. Daniel turns to look and I say "Please don't touch those" and I hand him some other things he can hold in the front of the cart. A few minutes later, I leave Daniel with my mom and walk two feet away to a freezer section and my mom walks about a foot away to grab something. I return to the cart (keeping in mind I was only 2 feet away) to see something in my son's hand. It must have taken me 20 full seconds to comprehend what he had. He had an egg and he had punctured a hole in the side, but still managed to have all of it in his hands.

I reached out my hand, like any good mother would do, and said, "Please let me have that." Daniel turns his hand over and pours the cracked egg into mine. I stand there for quite possibly another 20 seconds not believing that I am holding a raw egg in my hand. (I really don't care too much for eggs). By this time my mom is standing there taking it all in. Thankfully instinct (of some sort) kicked in and I ran to the hall where the bathrooms were marked. Well, the first trash can I see is the big trash can in the store's breakroom, which door happened to be opened. So I barge in and drop the raw egg in the trash can. I surprised a lady who quickly pointed out to me that the bathroom was just down the hall. I thanked her and went to wash my hands and get stuff to clean Daniel's hand with.

My mom and I laughed about it once Daniel's hands were cleaned and joked about how we were both standing right there and he still got the egg. My mom said that for some reason she was not meant to eat that egg.

What's even funnier is that there is a Part Two to this story. When we arrived home, my mom put her eggs in my refrigerator while we all had lunch together. When she left, she forgot them. The next day she went by the house to pick up the eggs and drove home. I get an email at work the following day (yesterday) that says:

"You are going to love this !!! I left the doomed eggs in my car til now. They go in the trash. For some reason the Lord does NOT want me to eat them."

My response to her was:

"See, Daniel was only trying to help you out!"

What a good boy I have!!