How to Perfectly Time a Soft Boiled Egg

Workday mornings are busy, not a minute to spare. Daniel and I have it down to a science. I know things aren’t going to go well if Daniel’s not eating breakfast by 6:40am. But routine gets boring, very boring.

Monday morning: 6:09am ugh – must get out of bed – ahhhh shower – beginning to wake up. 6:33am. Start making hot buttered toast as usual for Daniel. Slight change in plan today, he wants a soft boiled egg in his goose egg cup. I think to myself “no problem, just a couple of extra minutes.” Pot of water on stove – c’mon boil… “Daniel, can you get the eggs out of the fridge please.” I dig through the kitchen shrapnel jug looking for the pin to prick the bottom of the egg. Oh no, it’s 6:45! “Sorry Daniel, just buttered toast today, we’ll try again tomorrow.”

Tuesday morning: 6:05am – wake up – get dressed – stagger into kitchen. At 6:30 I’ve got the water on to boil when Daniel makes his appearance. “Why did you poke a hole in the egg” he asks as I gently drop the egg into the water. Lengthy explanation while making his lunch. The timer yells at me “Beep-beep beeeeeeep!” The egg is done; where’s his toast? My heart sinks as I realise that I’ve forgotten to make his toast. It is 6:43am, far too late to begin making toast. “Sorry Daniel, looks like you’re having cereal today. Eat quickly Sweetheart, we’re running late.”

Wednesday morning: 6:06am – usual morning routine – drag myself into kitchen for effort #3. Boil water, prick egg, toast bread. I’m getting the hang of this! I’ve almost finished making his lunch, just need to get his water and school snack ready. What has been my problem all week? This isn’t so difficult. Beep-beep beeeeeeep! The timer’s yelling at me again. Quick! Run egg under cold water for a few moments. Tap-tap-tap. “…just need to take the top off Love, take your toast to the table, I’ll be right there.” Tap-tap-CRUNCH! I’ve dropped the d***ed egg into the sink. Defeated yet again.

Thursday morning: 6:03am – oh my head hurts – think I’ve caught Daryle’s cold. 6:30am and Daniel’s standing in the middle of the kitchen, hands on his hips, telling me he’s going to make the egg himself. “Fill your boots child, make one for me while you’re at it” says my cranky inner voice. He drags the stool over to the sink and fills the pot. I put the pot on the stove – heat as high as I can crank it. We prick two eggs today. Who knows, maybe hell will freeze over and we’ll both have an egg with toast. Daniel pops two slices of bread into the toaster. Just as the *%$^# timer screams “Beep-beep beeeeeeep!” the toast pops up. While Daniel butters the toast, I cool the eggs, remove the top of one and peel the other. Plates and egg cup on table, something to drink, sit down and tuck into breakfast! Success!!! Teamwork, why didn’t I think of that sooner?

I feel great now, like I’ve conquered something. Daniel’s expression of delight is fantastic. We’re a team, we can do anything. I begin to plot our next conquest; perhaps we’ll try to make a bit of bacon…

“Mom, I think, maybe, I don’t want an egg now.” he says, peering down into the egg.


About Christine N

I'm married to Daryle, Mom to two wonderful boys - Daniel and Andy.
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