The Family (Or most of them)

The Family (Or most of them)
The Family

January 12, 2008

One for the Boys (The Exploding Egg Caper)

And I've never seen my daughter roll her eyes with so much disdain for him and for me...and then refuse to look at me as I tried to take her picture after the fact. She even tried to hide from the camera lens in embarrassment.

My only regret is that I didn't actually see it happen.

Let me set the scene:

Saturday, Jan. 12, 2008, 9:08 a.m.

Daughter, 19, wakes up before dad, 52, and son, 16. Takes her usual place as Queen of the Planet on the couch, turns on TV, hides remote control inside blanket on top of her, knowing how much we both hate her shows.

9:18 a.m.

Dad wakes up, scratches self, crawls out of bed, turns on kettle for coffee, says good morning to daughter, gets paper from mailbox, starts reading with coffee in hand.

10 a.m.

Son awakens to extent he ever really awakens. Immediately commandeers computer to play Final Fantasy game. Hair all amok, as usual. Mumbles something that resembles "I'm hungry."

10:22 a.m.

Dad starts preparing standard homemade egg and bacon with melted cheese on muffin for son. Asks daughter if she would like egg/cheese with mixture. "Yes, please," she orders. Continues to watch innane TV shows.

10:45 a.m.

Daughter has now disappeared into room and closed door, leaving mindless TV crap blaring. Talks to boyfriend on phone. Son finds online Final Fantasy player from UK who needs his help battling bad guys.

Attempts to have Dad reverse cooking process so he can be Mr. Superhero for UK neophyte. Dad glares at him threateningly. Son says: "OK, Dad! OK!"

11:03 a.m.

Dad, reckoning he must feed beast first, shouts out "Evan! Breakfast!" Sends son off to living room with food. Son promptly changes channels on TV, thankfully.

Dad starts cooking daughter's egg, throws muffins in toaster, slices cheese.

11:08 a.m.

Dad calls daughter for breakfast. Recommends V8 high-fibre/low fat juice as culinary accompaniment. Is politely ignored by daughter, who trapses off like princess into living room and assumes control of TV remote.

11:15 a.m.

Dad, now in computer room/bedroom, hears son roar with laughter as daughter almost screams in disgust. Son bursts into my room in hysterics and falls on my bed.

"Monica's egg exploded! The egg yolk's in her hair and all over the place! HA HA HA HA HA!!!

11:15.09 a.m.

"HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!," Dad says as he and son resound together in revelry and merriment.

11:15.18 a.m.

"You guys are such morons," daughter exclaims as she brushes yolk out of her hair with fine-toothed comb, ignoring Dad's reminders that she had whined about him always overcooking eggs in the past.

And then they lived happily ever after.