I Suck At Egg Salad

Saturday happened to be the glorious day in which Beyonce Knowles, Ione Skye, and Damon Wayans were born. As a mental note: what ever happened to Ione Skye? As well, the day happened to be the birthday of my friend (Marc). Happy belated birthday, Marc! I hope you enjoyed the day in Las Vegas. (For anyone curious, Marc celebrated his birthday by going to sin city.)

Anyway, Saturday was a rather comical day. I had noticed that a carton of eggs were on sale at the local grocery store. It was quite the deal. The only problem, of course, was that we already had a carton and a half of eggs already in the refrigerator. Naturally, I started to have delusions of making egg salad. Now, I suck at egg salad.

For those who know me, they know that I do enjoy egg salad. (Karen... not so much.) In fact, my most memorable egg salad memory may have been while I was in Maine with a bunch of my friends. I got so sick from eating mass quantities of egg salad that I passed out. Interestingly enough, you would think that with my liking for egg salad that I would make it more often.

Needless to say, I may have rationalized that with eggs being on sale at the grocery store, it would make sense to get the eggs on sale and use up some of our existing eggs. Hence, the egg salad idea!

Anyway, Karen and I had quite the experience making the egg salad. As I am apt to do, I sometimes tune my mother out while talking to her on the phone. So there I was with a pot of water on the kitchen stove with the phone in my hand. I began heating the pot with the eggs in them when I started hearing what sounded like chirping noises.

I couldn't pinpoint where the noise was coming from until after I hung up the phone. But the chirping noise seemed to be coming from within the pot of water. Naturally, to make sure I was not crazy, I asked Karen if she heard the chirping noise. Sure enough, she did. And sure enough, she thought the chirping came from within the pot of water as well.

Karen took all the eggs out of the pot. She put one back into the pot. Nothing. She put another egg into the pot. Nothing. She put another egg into the pot. Chirp! Chirp! Chirp! Karen freaked. We were absolutely convinced that we were boiling a baby chicken.

I think what makes the whole thing more interesting is the fact that we got the eggs that were being boiled from my mother. I say that because I began to wonder where on earth did my mom get these eggs from. Did she get them from Chinatown or something? (Turns out the eggs were from Roche Bros. And it turns out that the chirping egg wasn't even one of the eggs that my mom gave us.)

Anyway, it was a rather comical experience. Looking back, from a purely scientific standpoint we know it was impossible for there to be a chicken in an unfertilized store bought egg. At the same time, our rationalization that there was a chicken in the egg was just too funny. (For anyone curious, eggs are porous and when in water the air escapes through the shells... sometimes causing a "chirp".)

I guess it shows you how often Karen and I make hard-boiled eggs. Karen was still a little worried when the eggs were completely boiled. She wouldn't touch the eggs when I was cracking the shells, a precaution in the event there actually was a boiled chicken in there.

Following the egg incident, Karen and I also had a little broiled salmon incident. Apparently, it wasn't a good day for cooking for Karen and I. Karen was on the phone with our friend (Jen) while I was taking care of our daughter (Briana) and cooking the salmon. The next thing you know, smoke is coming from the broiler. The whole house smelled like burned salmon, which wasn't good because Karen's cousin (Karlene) and her husband (Tommy) were coming over.

Karlene and Tommy happened to be in the neighborhood as they were attending an all-day family thing in Duxbury. Rather than make the trek back to Lowell, where there is always something to like about Lowell, they opted to stay the night at our place.

It's always good to see Karlene and Tommy. Karlene cracks me up with her stories. One of her stories this time around involved one of her friends having a "cool" friend. Apparently, the friend's friend has been labeled "cool" by the friend.

Naturally, that got me thinking about my own circle of friends. In my circle, who would I label as the "cool" friend? I know I myself would never be considered the "cool" friend because I'm about as geeky as they come. Although I suppose if I were in a group strictly made up of geeks then perhaps I may stand a chance. Anyway, the "cool" friend was an interesting topic of discussion.

It also turns out that Tommy is the baby-whisperer. Briana has recently become quite attached to Karen and I (which makes sense because we are her parents after all). Whenever someone outside of Karen and I hold her, she usually begins to cry... and cry... and cry. She does this to my favorite sister-in-law (Janine). She did this to Karlene. But with Tommy... no tears. Briana was happy as a clam.

It was remarkable. I don't know what it is about Tommy, but apparently he can come down and watch Briana any time.