Anya was due to pick us up around 9:00 for church. The boys and I rolled out of bed around 7:30. You'd think that 90 minutes would be well spent having a leisurely breakfast and mentally preparing ourselves for worship. Ha. Eli and Isaac were exceptionally rowdy this morning. These brothers play rough. Really rough. It's orphanage survival, no doubt, and if they were to stay in the orphanage I'd leave it alone. Hopefully, though, ten years from now, fighting skills will not be necessary for their livelihood, so I tried to set some boundaries. I did my best to explain/demonstrate that wrestling, tickling, hugging = yes, and hitting, biting, kicking, choking = no. Soooo, now I'm getting a "report" every time someone hits, bites, kicks, or chokes. It's a process. :)
We came back to the apartment right after church and had a good, low key day. Oh, except for the exploding eggs. Isaac told me he was hungry, so I got out the ingredients to make french toast. Isaac of course didn't know what I was doing and I couldn't really explain, so I forged ahead despite his concerns/protests. No, he doesn't want bread. No, he doesn't want the eggs scrambled. No milk! Poor guy was so confused until he saw the eggy bread hit the hot pan. When he saw me cracking the eggs, though, he said he wanted to try. Why not? He tapped the egg on the counter just like he'd seen me do, then crushed it with all his might, sending raw egg all over the kitchen. I'm glad he saw the humor in it because I sure did. I let him try again with a second egg, sure that he'd adjust. Nope. Purposeful or not, the yolk was on him.
By the way, have you ever had Nutella on french toast? Spread it on when the toast is really hot so the Nutella melts. Ohh yeah.
Proud of my Wife. That was an egg- ceptionally good pun
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