Have you ever exploded an egg?
More than once.
Yeah, I didn’t learn from my mistake the first time.
In case you didn’t already know this, if you boil eggs too long – like so long all the water is gone, then they’ll explode. Seriously, the egg gets so hot on the inside that the inside comes out. There’s singeing and crackling and smoke all leading up to the final shebang – loud, stinking combustions of yellow and white showering down around the pan.
When boiling eggs, it’s best not to leave the room.
Perhaps leaving the room doesn’t have the same effect on you that it does on me.
Well, good on you.
You want to know the saddest part? I even told myself (yes, I talk to myself, that’s not the sad part, that’s a sign of genius) “I should set an alarm on my phone to check on the eggs in 10 minutes.”
I said that as I left the kitchen.
By the time I walked across the house to the office (about 30 steps; I literally just counted them) the thought had left me. It clung to the air of the room I’d exited. I imagine the words hung in the air like a cartoon thought bubble. I’m guessing the smoke snuffed it out eventually.
The first time I exploded eggs, the Girl was home sick from school. After a few inexplicable noises and a stench that made her stomach turn more than it already had, she crept into the office and scared the bejesus out of me. I’d been working and singing along to the radio as though no one else was home (I may have forgotten anyone was). When she asked, “Were you cooking something?” I was certain I hadn’t been. We walked back to the kitchen together to investigate. Only then, once I saw the scattered egg pieces on the countertops and cabinet doors, splattered on the floor and hanging from the ceiling, seriously only then, did the lightbulb shine. I had been boiling eggs.
So this time around, laughing at myself (another sure sign of genius), I said “don’t forget the eggs, eh?”
Fast forward I don’t know how long later, I’m in the office working, the radio’s on … this is all very familiar.
I hear a noise coming from the other side of the house. I think, “What was that?” Nacho (the Chihuahua) was asleep on the couch. So I figure he did that gross “hock a loogie” noise he makes sometimes.
And I keep working.
“What is that smell?”
I’m still typing.
Wait, there’s that sound again. “Okay, let me just finish this sentence then I’ll go check—”
“Holy crap! I blew up the eggs again.”
I dashed into the kitchen and the stench slapped me in the face. Anybody in the mood for exploded egg?