The Morning the Eggs Broke
She goes to the refrigerator, still reeling from a terrible night. She’s been awakened several times by a burning sensation in her throat. The family cat roamed all night and made noises loud enough to pull her up out of deep sleep. The kids woke up early, came into her bedroom and said they wanted to get up. “Go back to bed, you crazies. It’s not time to get up yet!”
Thirty minutes later she is driven to the inevitable--to get up and get the day started. Groggily, she walks to the kitchen and begins
to organize ingredients for the family favorite: pancakes. She opens the refrigerator door, finds the
egg carton and tugs it.
CRASH. “Oh no!” she moans! She sees a dozen AA broken chicken
eggs on the floor, right below the refrigerator door hinge--egg whites mingling
with yellow yoke amidst broken shells, inconveniently at her feet.
Was this my mother, 50 some years ago? No, but it could
have been. She had some disasters in the kitchen. It could have been my mother,
any sleepy family cook or chef. It could have been you, me or anyone.
So we all need to think: what do you do when the eggs break?
The unfortunate cook thinks of calling the butler, but
realizes that happens only on Downton Abbey.
This episode reminded Tammy Adamson-McMullen, a reader, of
another, more serious life event. She recalled reading an essay about a woman who was pregnant and had dreamed of
a "perfect" baby and all of the experiences she would have with
him/her but then was shell-shocked when the child had Down syndrome. The
new mother equated the experience with planning a trip to Italy and
anticipating the Coliseum, fabulous foods and hilltop villages but ending up in
Holland instead. There, she realized that the Coliseum, fabulous foods and
hilltop villages were not to be. However, over time, she learned to see Holland
in all of its glory, with its windmills, bicycles and canals. Yes, there was
still loss with never having experienced Italy, but Holland was a great place
to be.
Tammy continued with
words like these: I guess there would be loss over not having pancakes but accepting
that cereal wouldn't be so bad? With every loss, there's a gain, right?
The cook, above, acted quickly, saved what she could, and cleaned up the mess. She got breakfast back on track. She poured cereal and the family got on with the day. The unfortunate cook wasn't my mother, but my mother would have done the same.
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