Andrea’s Weblog

Elizabeth is known to have a fascination with eggs. One day I had the Kitchenaid mixer beating away at some butter and sugar, and Elizabeth, having noticed the eggs on the counter ready to be added, decided to add them herself. She just tossed two whole eggs into the mixer with such pride and amusement. Apparently, she’d failed to notice that I crack the eggs before I add them. We had to toss the batter and start over because the mixer had practically pulverized the egg shells.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise to me that Elizabeth would take an interest in the eggs I loaded into the shopping cart (or buggy as they say here in the south). Even though she was buckeled in, she figured out how to turn around and quickly grabbed the carton of eggs. This was no ordinary carton of eggs, no $ .88 for 18 sale eggs. They were the happy hormone-free, free range chicken eggs. She grabbed them and started to open the carton. I noticed in time to say Nooooooooooo! I watched as the eggs fell out of the carton and into the cart with all the splatting sound effects you would expect when a dozen eggs are involved. Most of the eggs did manage to stay in their shell enough to scoop back into the carton, but several made their way onto the floor, and the rest clung to our groceries. (There were several survivors that we took home to eat.) Then the apologizing began. First the stock person in the next aisle over who went to find the clean-up crew, then to the cashier and th bagger who had to bag our eggy groceries.

I guess I’ll have to reconsider using one of the carts that’s shaped like a car. They’re so unwieldy that I usually avoid using one. Now I see that their design would prevent Elizabeth from reaching into the basket. It’s probably easier to apologize for bumping into someone with an unwieldy cart than it is to apologize for covering the store with eggs.