Don't Eat My Eggs!

On any given morning in the Preslar household you may hear someone shout, just as they go walking out the door, "Don't Eat My Eggs!" You'll look around for the eggs and see there are none in sight. And you'll be confused.

This may seem a little strange. And....it is.  I'll give you that.  But you should know that it is a fond farewell and expression of love and also another method of teasing me. Troy insisted that I blog about it so that we always remember how this phrase came to be.

Not too long ago, probably in the fall, I had made scrambled eggs for breakfast.  As is usually the case on a busy school day morning, I had time to make the eggs and I had time to serve the eggs but did not have time to eat any myself. I was busy doing the hustling and bustling that moms always seem to be doing.  My delicious eggs sat there on their pedestal of buttered wheat toast just waiting for me.  The time got closer for the kids to get out the door and still I hadn't had a bite.  Finally I had to leave them there while I quickly walked my brood to school.  Troy was still home and after we had our family prayer and buttoned up coats, he sweetly called to us as we stepped out the door, "I love you!"  His little daughters each sang out as they stepped through the doorway, "I love you too, daddy!" and "I love you so much too, daddy!" Then it was my turn to walk out, and I turned as well but what did I call out? I love you too? Nope. It was the now infamous, "Don't eat my eggs!"

After a moment of disgust at my lack of returned affection Troy started laugh and then I did too and decided to quickly reassure him that "Don't Eat My Eggs" is just a little euphemism for "I Love You" and he had just misunderstood me.  The kids found this to be riotously funny and have been shouting it out periodically ever since.  Just for the record, Troy did very kindly leave my eggs alone and I enjoyed a very tasty if slightly room-temperature breakfast upon my return.

Hey Troy, like I said, DON'T EAT MY EGGS.