The egg race.
Apr. 9th, 2010 05:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
navygreenA.J. wasn't interested in coloring the eggs, but two days later, he was ALL OVER cracking and peeling them!
I originally just asked him to help me, and he easily agreed to do so. A few minutes later, I was still shelling my first egg as he reached for his third. I remarked how amazing that was - how was he doing it so fast?! - and it instantly became a game, a race!
He showed me his technique (all thumb skin, where I'd been carefully using my thumbnail and it slowed me down), and then we really started scrambling. His tenth egg had imperfections, and it caused me to leap ahead from my seventh egg to a start on my eleventh one. At one point, he reached across me and knocked my little paper plate of shell bits all over my lap, costing me half an egg's time in clean-up (while he giggled and worked furiously ahead!). I made him grab the next carton of eggs, and I caught up my half an egg's time.
In the end, we were sing-songing out our numbers each time we finished a new egg, and we were talking to and coaching our little eggs to go faster. We both finished our twentieth egg at the SAME TIME, and it was chaos as we each reached for the last egg...
I had it first, but A.J. bumbled it out of my hands (and neither of us understand HOW we didn't knock over my Dr. Pepper in the process!), and then I caught a fingertip on it once more, dropping it from his hands to the wood floor... where it rolled and cracked and rolled and cracked. A.J. was fastest on his feet to grab it, and he scored the final egg. It took him no time to peel it, especially since it was then already cracked and open!
Score: A.J. - 21, Mom - 20.
But so fun! :-) Neither of us even like hard-boiled eggs, so it was great to have a fun memory to associate with such a yucky task. (I enjoy coloring them, and Philip loves eating them, in case you wondered why I bothered even making them. *nods*)
I originally just asked him to help me, and he easily agreed to do so. A few minutes later, I was still shelling my first egg as he reached for his third. I remarked how amazing that was - how was he doing it so fast?! - and it instantly became a game, a race!
He showed me his technique (all thumb skin, where I'd been carefully using my thumbnail and it slowed me down), and then we really started scrambling. His tenth egg had imperfections, and it caused me to leap ahead from my seventh egg to a start on my eleventh one. At one point, he reached across me and knocked my little paper plate of shell bits all over my lap, costing me half an egg's time in clean-up (while he giggled and worked furiously ahead!). I made him grab the next carton of eggs, and I caught up my half an egg's time.
In the end, we were sing-songing out our numbers each time we finished a new egg, and we were talking to and coaching our little eggs to go faster. We both finished our twentieth egg at the SAME TIME, and it was chaos as we each reached for the last egg...
I had it first, but A.J. bumbled it out of my hands (and neither of us understand HOW we didn't knock over my Dr. Pepper in the process!), and then I caught a fingertip on it once more, dropping it from his hands to the wood floor... where it rolled and cracked and rolled and cracked. A.J. was fastest on his feet to grab it, and he scored the final egg. It took him no time to peel it, especially since it was then already cracked and open!
Score: A.J. - 21, Mom - 20.
But so fun! :-) Neither of us even like hard-boiled eggs, so it was great to have a fun memory to associate with such a yucky task. (I enjoy coloring them, and Philip loves eating them, in case you wondered why I bothered even making them. *nods*)
