taters, tots, and egg knots

We were at our friends’ house for dinner one Sunday – which isn’t especially noteworthy, since we’re there almost every Sunday. The ten of us sat around the table enjoying the bounty. My friend is an excellent cook; the meat loaf, mashed taters with gravy, bread, and vegetables sent an aroma wafting through the house and probably right on down the street. The four children have a particular fondness for deviled eggs and bread – two staples at every meal, no matter what the main course is.

Conversation is lively as we dine – the children contribute to the overall interchange as well as the adults. There is much fellowship, love, laughter, and even some serious discussions at times. That day, the topic of conversation seemed to be food – deviled eggs, in particular.

Number one grandson, age 6, was especially intrigued by his egg. He kept peering at it, turning and tipping it at various angles, fascinated by a tiny droplet of liquid slipping down one side of the yellow filling. Forgetting all about the rest of his food, he was totally engrossed in making that droplet move back and forth and sideways, never falling completely off the egg. As I watched him play with the egg, I could see the cogwheels turning in that little head. Finally he looked over at his grandma with a glow of discovery in those large, deep-blue eyes. Mouth slightly open, head tilted to one side and eyes on the droplet, he tilted the egg toward his grandma to illustrate his discovery. He’d come to a logical conclusion for the droplet’s existence; now all he needed was corroboration from his grandmother.

“Grandma, do eggs melt?”

She assured him that in fact, eggs do not melt. She then went on to explain the droplets of liquid.

“When I was mixing the filling I had trouble getting it smooth, so I added a little pickle juice and just kept beating it. I was trying to get the knots out.”


So . . . eggs can’t melt . . . they can knot.


2 thoughts on “taters, tots, and egg knots

  1. I have learned long ago, that if something is worthwhile, that you can find a way around or through to get to the good stuff. And as much as I like deviled eggs, my tongue has learned to untie those knots of numminess.


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