Egg-cellent Day!

I have this thing about breakfast. While it doesn't always work out this way, I usually like my kids to have a piping hot breakfast. And yes, hot homemade donuts count. I can hear my kids screaming right about now, because it's been way too long since I've made hot homemade donuts! Soon, my children, soon!

Anyway, I pulled out the griddle this morning to make some good old-fashioned fried eggs and toast. The griddle is on, all sprayed with Pam, the eggs are out, the bread is ready to go down in the toaster, the butter is soft and perfectly spreadable...we are on our way!

Pause here...

Yes, we all hang out together at the griddle...OK? OK.

Well, the first egg I crack open (from a carton of large eggs, I might add) is the tiniest little egg you'd ever want to see. I mean, it wasn't like a hummingbird egg or anything, but as chicken eggs go, it was little. I'd say the yolk was the size of a nickle. That started me talking about how my Aunt Elle raised chickens (my Aunt Lou raised chickens too, but I have more cow stories than chicken egg stories from her) that would often lay these huge eggs. And she knew exactly which ones would have double yolks. She'd pick one up and crack it on the side of the bowl, and Wa-La (aka Voila!), a double-yolk egg. As a kid, I thought that was the coolest thing ever.

Imagine our shock that just as I'm telling this little Aunt Elle story, I crack open another egg (from the same carton of large eggs), and what pops out? A double-yolk egg! Honestly, it was at the exact moment I'm telling the kids the coolness factor of finding a double-yolk egg. I think we all let out a little scream of excitement. Uh, it doesn't take much to excite us around here. Hanging out at the griddle ought to tell you something. So, the camera was grabbed and photos were taken for posterity's sake. I do believe this was my first ever, double-yolk egg! And with the kids, no less.

We do have egg problems at our house though. Rachel enjoys the white part of the egg, but not so much the yolk part. She specifically requested the little nickle-size bird egg. Caleb, on the other hand, loves eggs, especially the dipping part, so I figured he'd want the double-yolk. Nope. He didn't want nothin' to do with eatin' twin chickens. So, guess who got the double-yolk egg? Yep. Yours truly.

As I'm cleaning-up the breakfast dishes, the kids ask, "So, how was the twin egg, Mama?" "Quite frankly," I tell them, "it was a little bit freaky to me." Don't ask me why. It tasted exactly the same as any other egg I have ever eaten, but there was just something weird about it. I guess the good news is, given my history of finding double-yolk eggs for the past, oh, 47 years, chances of this happening to me again are slim to none.

Hope your day is egg-cellent!