Overheard this morning: Jonathan (7) and Noah (4) were making breakfast. I wish I'd had a hidden video camera; the whole show would have had a chance to go viral on YouTube. As it was I only caught bits and snatches as I went about my own affairs.
Jonathan: I'll make the eggs, because if someone else makes them they’ll put in something I don’t like, like green peppers.
Noah: I’ll help!
Jonathan: You get out all the eggs—not the ones with the writing on them. [The hard-boiled eggs are marked with an H.]
Noah: Bud, we need Tuscan Sunset.
Noah: Do we have rye bread?
Jonathan: You need a towel, because the eggs don’t stay still if you put them [directly] on the counter.
Noah: Huh?
Grandma: He doesn’t want to make egg rolls. [A reference to Noah’s favorite joke, which he says he made up himself: How do you make egg rolls? You take an egg and roll it.]
<SPLAT>
Jonathan: I’ve got it mostly under control. Don’t anybody step there.
Jonathan: One, two three, four, five, six, seven. That’s good.
Noah: I’m not putting this in.
Jonathan: But it’s onion!
Noah: Yes, but I’m not putting it in because it doesn’t have one of those [a shaker lid].
Jonathan: Mom might be able to guess that I used nutmeg, but she’ll never guess we used paprika. Paprika looks like red pepper but it’s mild as a pild. [Jonathan’s latest verbal venture is frequent use of “(adjective) as a (rhyming nonsense word).”]
Jonathan: Bud, that was 'way too much Tuscan Sunset.
Noah: Okay, but I know we love Tuscan Sunset.
Jonathan: [putting away the minced onion] M … mace …. [This for my friend who also keeps her spices in alphabetical order.]
[Noah’s interest wanes and he gets distracted by other things; Jonathan carries on. Jonathan does not require a second person for conversation.]
Why did someone put this big pan on top of our best frying pan?
[Pours scrambled eggs into the pan.]
Oil! Oil! Oil!
[Pours scrambled eggs back into the bowl.]
[Pulls big jar of oil from cupboard. Puts it back.]
Canola oil isn’t the only kind you can use.
[Gets olive oil mister from the cupboard.]
This makes it easier not to pour too much oil.
[Sprays oil, returns eggs to the pan, turns on the stove, and commences stirring. Later, a call comes from the kitchen.]
Can someone help me stir? My arm is tired!
The eggs were almost done, and soon we sat down to a delicious breakfast of scrambled eggs, accompanied by recitations from Green Eggs and Ham.
Thank you, thank you, Jonathan and Noah!
