Julie has a cold and a chesty-sounding cough. This morning she came downstairs feeling pretty miserable and requested this pregnancy's most enduring craving: Cocoa Krispies. Meanwhile, Lyla ate Cheerios in the highchair, still under the impression that Cocoa Krispies are mama food.
When only twelve Krispies dribbled out, the empty box sucked the air from the room.
"Uh..." I said.
"Huh?" Julie said and then saw what my uh was about. Her face fell.
"I could make you eggs?"
Lyla looked up from her Cheerios. "Edds!"
"Yes, I'm going to make Mama some eggs."
"You don't have to," said Julie like a martyr.
Lyla burst into tears. "EDDS! AH WAH EDDS!"
It must have been the perfect storm of pregnancy hormones, chest cold, cereal snafu, and sobbing child; suddenly tears began to stream down Julie's face. What do you do when you're late for work and the two most important women in your life are sitting at the kitchen table crying about breakfast?
First you acknowledge that sometimes your life is utterly absurd.
Then you make eggs.
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