breakfast? or a science experiment gone terribly wrong...

so today . . . rollie is in san diego.

i know, we just got back from being out of town, but there are a lot of meetings he has to attend at this time of year. and so he was home sunday and monday (well, actually he wasn't home on monday--he was at work until 10:30 p.m.!) and then he had to leave early this morning to go to san diego for the rest of the week. (don't worry, it isn't always going to be this hectic...) so when he left, i was still in bed, trying to climb out of a deep sleep and into reality. obviously, we didn't exactly have a conversation. rollie pretty much said he was leaving, and i said uh huh, without actually opening my eyes. he left. i blindly found my way into the shower, and then managed to finally wake up enough to get to school.

midway through the morning, i got this text from rollie--"okay, my wisdom to you today is this: apparently not all boiled eggs are microwave-ready." hmmm, i thought. that was an interesting choice of wisdom to impart. i would have expected something a little more profound. perhaps, i thought, he is still jet lagged.

even though we both eat hard boiled eggs for breakfast, this did not seem like vital information for me to have. i eat them because they are quick--i can grab one out of the refrigerator, throw it into my school bag, and head out the door. then when i get settled at school, i can peel it and eat it, and i don't have to get up 15 minutes earlier to give myself time to eat a real breakfast. rollie eats them because they are part of his healthy breakfast of eggs, cheese, and almonds. but rollie likes his hard boiled egg to be a little warm (i find this pretty gross, but then, he thinks pepper jack cheese is an abomination, so we've learned to be tolerant...) to accomplish warmness in a previously boiled and refrigerated egg, he peels it, and then sticks it in the microwave for a few seconds. he has been doing this for a long time. until today.

today apparently he peeled his egg, put it in the microwave, and when he opened the door a few seconds later, this is what he saw...

he sent me the picture, and then texted, "this was my breakfast."

i died. i laughed and laughed and laughed. i could just picture it... and so i texted back, "HAHAHAHAHA! oh boy... i hope your lunch is better." and then, we finally had a "conversation..."

"i'm glad my disaster gave you a chuckle."

"well, it was a pretty dramatic photo."

"why thank you. hard to believe i am an amateur, isn't it?"

"clearly you are an amateur egg heater upper."

"i was in a hurry!!"

"oh, so it wasn't the egg's fault then? the mess was due to operator error??"

"no wait, you are right--defective egg."

"uh huh..."

"at least i cleaned it up."

"believe me, when i saw the photo, i was grateful for that!!"

"took me ten minutes!"

this is the sort of thing that happens when we cook. perhaps our new house doesn't really need a kitchen. perhaps food preparation should be left to the professionals.

perhaps we should just permanently reserve a table at rubio's...