Egg-splosion

I had an egg explode in my face last weekend. It redefined the whole concept of an exciting breakfast. And after we (Whisker, parts of the furniture and Nayef’s foot) were covered in specks of egg, I was offered another egg in its place.

“No, Thank you, I’ve had enough egg today…” I said as I picked out fragments of shell out of my hair.

I guess this entry is going to include the word “egg” a lot.

Nayef wanted a soft boiled egg and I wanted a hard boiled egg, after several failed attempts at getting this challenging culinary accomplishment, Emily served us with two gooey and soft uncooked eggs.

When notified of this oversight, she went back to the kitchen with the suspect and tried to fix it with her secret cooking methods and we were none the wiser.

It must’ve been that I wasn’t fully awake yet, because I didn’t realize that my egg looked scary. It was a normal egg, but there was a big bubble of its insides coming out of the top. I thought that boiling an already partly peeled egg, had that effect on it.

“Ooh, look! Frankenstein egg.” I said as I giggled to myself.

The next thing that happened after I touched it was a very loud BANG!!!!!! Egg fragments everywhere!

Nayef jumped off the sofa, and I shrieked from the noise and the hot burn on my finger and Emily rushed into the room to find out what had exploded. Whisker not the least bit shell-shocked began to eat the bits that covered her face.

“Ay! What haaa-pen?” she asked the obvious question.

“Emily, the breakfast exploded…” I answered showing her the perimeter of the blast.

Her look of shock and regret, assured me that the lesson had been learned.

Never. Ever. Microwave an EGG…even if it seems like a good idea at the time.

Of course, I spent the rest of my day holding my victim finger at Nayef and making a sad face, when Emily wasn’t looking. I’m such a baby when it comes to pain. You have to hear about it like 10,000 times, and I still don’t really know what reaction in particular I’m looking for. Is it a dramatic embrace coupled with wailing at my great misfortune? Is it a loving pat on the head and a hope for a speedy recovery from my tragic WOUND? I don’t know, but I waved my finger at Nayef, my mom, my dad, my sister (who didn’t give me the time of day) and others I saw along the way, all weekend.

I quickly got over it and went back to eating my usual breakfast, but since then I feel a little bit safer with the egg scrambled, fried, or omletted. Remember the lesson and when in doubt, stick to conventional cooking methods.