As I stood in my kitchen making my family's breakfast, I learned why my mother-in-law tells me to crack eggs in a bowl first. You see all our eggs come from their chickens till ours are mature enough to lay. Which I thought was so nice of them, until today.
I stood there cracking eggs into my hot cast iron skillet. Stopping to stir the fried potatos and then turning back to crack the last egg. (It takes a dozen every morning. See why we need chickens?) And my hubby asks a question so I turn my head as I crack it to answer him. About five seconds later the SMELL hits.
Giving myself whiplash- I see the black mess floating in my sunny side up eggs. I start squealing (hey even country people freak out) and Honeybear comes to save the day. Unfortanetly he grabbed the skillet handle without thinking (cast iron handles are metal as well) thankfully he didn't burn himself. He grabs a dish towel and takes it out to dump in the field.
I ,mean while, get out two different febreezes and start spraying. My house now smells like an overwhelmed florist but at least that odor is gone.
Needless to say we didn't have eggs this morning-just pancakes and fried potatos.
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