As I said, we celebrated my mom's birthday this weekend. Sophia and I did our part by making a cake for her on Friday. I didn't realize, until we were in the midst of baking, that the recipe called for three eggs. Seems a little excessive, but whatever. Much to my relief, I opened the carton to find three eggs precisely. However, as I tried to take the last egg out, it was stuck. You know when the eggshell just won't budge, and if you try too hard, the egg will crack. Since I needed that egg badly, I decided not to think about what might be causing the egg to stick and just continued on our way.
I had to confess to Sophia that the eggs were a little "iffy." Normally, I let her eat the cake batter, but on account of the threat of salmonella, I didn't let that happen this time. It's not a surprise that I had to repeat the caution many times before the dishes were washed.
Once the cake came out, I forgot all about the egg incident. When Mom & Dad came that night, we ate supper, then had some cake. I'm happy to report the night was uneventful from stomach issues.
The next day, as we sat down to have cake again, we were all finishing up, raving about its deliciousness. Sophia calmly pointed out, "Yeah, it turned out great. You'd never know the eggs were iffy!"
I must have turned ten shades of red - caught, as I was, in my culinary gamble. Everyone had a good laugh, except for Sophia, who just kept insisting that it wasn't a joke - the eggs were actually iffy! I was just glad she didn't announce it the night before when we may have spent some more time fretting over each one of our tummy's rumblings...