June 13th, 2013

HP || Luna || Just as sane as I am.

(no subject)

My father has decided to teach me how to make "the most perfect scrambled eggs" because he learned from television.

Thus far he has dropped half the egg shell into the pan.

Can anyone see why I'm doomed? Anyone, anyone?

I told him I would offer him my rapt attention.

The Process:

- Eggs straight into the pan, no beating. No milk (it'll be creamy enough) or seasoning. Just butter.
- Add heat, use spatula to stir rather than beat. Just to break and mix the eggs.
- When it starts congealing, take it off the heat and stir it around again so it's not sticking at all. (It'll keep cooking because the pan is hot.)
- By then it has cooled down a bit. Put it back on the heat, wait for some congealing, repeat.
- Don't catch anything on fire (this is an important step).
- Do not feed the dog despite his whining (which you totally trained him out of but your father ruined); it is too much of a distraction.
- Do not let the eggs overcook in the pan.
- When the eggs are done, add a little cream-like-substance to cool down the pan and stop the eggs from cooking. If you are out of cream (as we are), skip this step and put them straight in a bowl, making a bit of a mess as you do (I said rapt attention!).
- Attempt to burn your daughter's mouth by feeding her hot eggs.
- Add pepper at the end anyway because you just so happen to like seasoning.
- Ask your son how he did suit-shopping for interview suits.
- Demand a show and tell.
- Finish eating the eggs.

That is how one scrambles eggs in my family. I may also be jealous of Dweeb's new suit. Very slim and black. His size is extra long and mine is petite. Again, jealous.

My father was just cutting kohlrabi and ruthlessly attacked me with a slice by flinging it at me. Accidentally, sure, but an attack it was.

My dog just ran straight into a bucket.

This is my family.

[Crossposted from dreamwidth.]