The other day I made a quick ham and egg scramble for the boys to eat for dinner. Usually I just make plain scrambled eggs so my eldest, Sam, looks at me suspiciously and asks, “Mama, what’s dees pieces?”
“Those are eggs, buddy.”
“No, what’s INNA eggs?”
“Oh, well, I put some ham in your eggs.”
“What DO ham?” he asks (that is his standard question when he doesn’t understand the purpose of something. Difficult question sometimes. What DO rocks? Well, I don’t know. But NOT FOR THROWING)
“I just thought you might like it, Sam.”
And Sam looks at the eggs and looks at me and looks at the eggs, pokes the ham with a finger and says to me (and I swear to god I’m telling the truth),
“I do not like these eggs with ham.”
And boy did I laugh. And then I asked him, “Do you like them on a box? Do you like them with a fox?”
And then he said, “I WANT CHICKEN NUGGETS WITH KETCHUP.”
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