The other day, I received way too much praise from my children for cooking eggs for them. We’re not talking fancy eggs, sunny side up, an overstuffed cheese omelet or even hard boiled (which in my opinion take too long to make and require way too much effort on my behalf so only get made once a year and that’s at Easter and only to color them so my kids are not the only ones in school who didn’t color eggs).
I am talking about your average, run of the mill, basic scrambled eggs. The “ooohs” and “ahhhs” that the children showered me with as they took their first bite of the eggs made three things very obvious to me. Firstly, I must make some kick ass eggs. Secondly, I so need to step up my cooking game around here, because this is bordering on, no actually, it is embarrassing. Lastly, I now can’t stop my thoughts from wandering down a path which includes some troubling thoughts about when the kids are adults, which include, but are sure as hell not limited to the following concerns…
– will my children grow up to believe eggs must be poured from a carton?
– will they believe macaroni and cheese is not really macaroni and cheese unless it is made with a fluorescent orange powder?
– will they think the process of making mashed potatoes must include a box of white flakes and a microwave?
– will they only eat yogurt if it is rainbow colored, comes in a tube and has knock-knock jokes on it?
– when asked how they prefer their pasta, al dente or not, will they respond “in a can with that big fat chef guy on the front of it.”?
So, as I reflect on this, I try to convince myself there is, in fact, a bright side and that is at least I am feeding them. Now, I turn to you all to make me feel better about my lack of culinary skills and boost my mommy-in-the-kitchen self esteem. Let em rip, folks. Give up your not so proud in the kitchen moments…the winner gets a plate of my scrambled eggs.