Some  years ago, two little girls decided to make a breakfast treat for the adults. The older of the pair was about 8, the second 6. Older girl had learned a week or so before to make scrambled eggs, standing on a chair to reach the stove and with strict supervision by a parent.

These two young ladies, awake before the parents, entered the kitchen, oh so quietly.  Using chairs to reach the cabinets, a large bowl was carefully placed on the table and filled with eggs taken from the refrigerator. Yes some shells landed in the bowl too, but that did not stop the intrepid pair, as the eggs were swirled with a beater into a frothy mix. Table and floor were liberally coated with the slimy yellow goo as it spattered  during the children’s efforts.

The skillet on the stove began to smoke as the mixture was poured in, sticking and burning for lack of greasing the pan to begin with. Coal black slices of bread emerged from the toaster, too hot to pick up. In those days before the advance of smoke detectors, a fine grey cloud soon enveloped the kitchen and made it’s way throughout the home, waking the sleeping adults in the front bedroom.

Two drowsy and extremely concerned adults appeared at the kitchen door, stopping the young ladies in their culinary experience!

My cousin and I were very disappointed that our plan was not only intercepted, but not much appreciated.

The ‘cooks’, reduced to tears of humiliation were banished from the kitchen while cleanup took place. Over the years, it became a laughable tale of our growing up.

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