Eggs

Last night, I was out at bedtime, so Joy had to put both boys to bed by herself, something she's not had to do in over a month, what with me off from school and our being surrounded by relatives for the past two weeks. Over the course of that month, Noah's become more aware, causing him to want to be up and about instead of sleeping. That means it takes a little longer sometimes to put him to sleep at night. Last night was one of those nights.

Usually, Sam plays with trains in his room contentedly while Joy puts Noah to sleep. But last night, Joy heard a strange crash in the kitchen while she was patting Noah in his bed. Noah wasn't cooperating, so she scooped him up and ran down to the kitchen.

I don't know what Joy expected to find, but I'm sure nothing could have prepared her for the sight of Sam standing in the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by and covered with broken eggs. He looked up at her when she entered, gave her his best smile, and declared:

"I'm making yummy pancakes for breakfast!"

Joy, caught between anger and laughter (a common emotional quandary at our house), didn't respond, so Sam tried one more angle:

"Eggs make a yummy breakfast!"

Unable to deal with a baby fighting sleep and a three year old making breakfast, Joy told Sam to stand on the foam puzzle he had brought down (and that was covered in egg goo) and not move until she got back. Miraculously, he did just that until she could come back and clean him up.

And as a public service announcement for the story, we learned that egg shells will make it all the way through the wash, into the dryer, and ultimately end up on the lint screen. Who knew?