Child Cook

I was about 10 when my Aunt served me scrambled eggs for breakfast.

I looked at them and told her that I really wanted eggs over medium that morning.

She replied that she would prepare eggs over medium tomorrow.

When tomorrow’s breakfast came, she brought me eggs over medium.

I told her that I really wanted scrambled eggs.

She replied that if I wanted to have eggs cooked the way I wanted, that I should cook them myself!

I said: “Teach me!”

The following day, she put a four legged wooden stool at the stove, showed me how to mix the eggs, and watched me as I stirred the eggs in the cast-iron pan.

I stirred the eggs, and stirred the eggs and stirred the eggs.

“The eggs are ready now,” she said.

“They’re not ready until I say they are ready,” I replied.

Incredibly, she let me continue cooking those eggs, until I thought they were done.

I could have patched a tire with those eggs!  They were like rubber!

But I forced down every bite; after all, they were MY eggs.

And from that day forward, I cooked my own breakfast.