Of Egg Yolks and Cell Phones

I am fairly confident that I will not be bored until John is, oh, say 65 or so. At that point I'll be a spry 108 so maybe I'll welcome a lull in the action.

John awakened us at 3:30 A.M. the other morning with an important announcement.

"Mama," he shared in a serious tone, " you know you can put a toy airpane in the toiwet, but you can't fwush it down."

Noted.

That off his chest, he immediately went back to bed.

Today I was getting my first shower in, well, a long time. Hygiene has taken a back seat to recuperation as strep came my way early Sunday morning. Meanwhile the stomach bug knocked Dave flat. I think I'll get Kolbe to paint a skull and crossbones to post on our door. This is getting old.

Anyway. Rub a dub dub. John opens the door a crack, sticks his arm in, and holds out an egg.

"Is this an egg yolk egg?" he wonders.

An egg yolk egg? As opposed to what, an Eggbeater?

"Yes, it's an egg yolk egg," I tell him. "And it belongs in the refrigerator!"

Finished with my shower, I call to John because I hear strange noises emanating from the kitchen.

"It's nothing," he assures me with a suspicious smile. "I'm cweaning your kitchen. Go back in and 'tay right there, okay?"

The Boost

I give him a few minutes and then walk into the kitchen.

"Ta da!" yells Mr. Cwean with an arm gesturing to a rather spiffy looking room. Later I find the pantry full of kitchen towels sodden with raw egg.


Should John begin to flag in his efforts to enliven the house of Dolin, I am afraid Ainsley will be all too willing to step up to the plate. She is now mastering the art of the boost, which is to say she realizes that everything in this house is within reach if she can find the appropriate stool, chair, peanut butter jar, coffee can, etc. to give her short little self that needed boost. Oh, the possibilities!  Drag something to your target and you're good.

This morning I found my cell phone in the toaster. Cooked and in the toaster.

Seems Ainsey dragged a stool to the counter, got her hands on the phone, and dumped the phone in the toaster. Tim staggered over to the toaster to make his bagel, noted that one slot was full, popped his bagel in the opposite slot, and cooked the lot of it.

Surprisingly the phone - though warm - seems no worse for the wear.