Mood: giggly. my mood is giggly. more on that later.
This morning, I was talking to Nolan about breakfast. He suddenly said, "Do you have any leftover eggs?"
"No. I have eggs, but not leftover ones." I got all excited, thinking maybe he might actually eat one, and what a breakfast breakthrough that would be, when he said he needed it for school. For Home Ec.
"Oh, it's the baby thing, isn't it?"
"Yup. I'm going to name mine Hannibal Lecter, and give it a hockey mask and straitjacket too."
I burst out laughing. "You are so dark sometimes. I dig that."
(That is, when it's not driving me crazy, in a sulky funk because I'm the meanest Mom in the world for uttering the words, "That's not appropriate.")
Before he left for school, he asked me if I could "blow the guts out of the egg."
"Make a hole in the egg..."
"Oh, and blow the egg white and yolk out. Like those Russian Easter eggs?"
"My teacher says you can use a tack.."
"I think I can figure it out."
I wonder how many I'll wreck before I get it right.
I've heard about shaping the lives of your grandchildren, but this is a little above-and-beyond. However, I'm up for the challenge.
I wonder how many I'll break before I succeed.
My money is on six. I'm sure it'll be a mess.
Or maybe breakfast.
The giggly thing. Apparently, giggling is a crime. I read an article about Rachael Ray in our newspaper a couple of weeks ago. Now, I am a little tired of seeing her everywhere, but I will not begrudge her success. Bully for her, she's got the Oprah boost, ride the wave, sister. Of all things to complain about (and people were quite mean about it) I think giggling is the most minor. The most benign. Maybe I'm just high.
From all my giggling.