I was about 7 and had the mumps. I was up before the crack of dawn with
what else a sore throat. For the first and last time my dad got up with me.
He suggested he make breakfast and we watch the sunrise. That sounded
wonderful to me until I got my plate of sloppy wet scrambled eggs. I said
the one thing that dads can't stand "That's not how mommy makes them." I
was sunk then, because my dad wasn't going to let me not eat them, because
according to him "Mommy has been making them all wrong." He forced me to
eat them and I threw up and missed the sunrise. To this day I don't like
wet eggs. On the other hand my son instructed me that he likes scrambled
eggs the way Grandpa makes them. It took me several tries to get the out of
the pan wet.

Lynne