If you really knew me, you would know that...

I am lousy at cracking eggs.  The word choice "lousy" is being rather gentle because to be quite truthful, I am worse than lousy.

 

I am terrible, horrible, extremely bad! 

Most days you will find me in my kitchen baking & cooking.  It feels like if I am not running out the door for a doctor's appointment for one of my three wee ones, I am in my kitchen with wooden spoon in hand, the kitchen aid whirring, cupboard doors opening & closing & me snippy snapping at my children to, "Stop putting your fingers in the batter" or "Dude, you just ate raw flippin' eggs!  Disgusting!  Out!  Out!  Out of my kitchen!"

(With my bionic read your mind powers, I am able to hear the mutterings in your head, and yes, I do know that the kitchen is the heart and soul of a home, and no, I do not always kick my wee ones out of the kitchen.  Only if the baking & cooking is business related.)

I know, I know.  You're  also wondering if I am constantly baking and cooking, why is it that I am so stinking horrible at cracking eggs.  

And, I have no answer, really.  Maybe, I have a secret fear of them.  THAT'S IT!  I fear pathetic little eggs!
I wonder if there is a name for this kind of thing.  Hmmmm...
Anyways...

Allow me to give you an example of my horrible egg cracking ways....

Last summer I was preparing a caramel swirled cheesecake with a gingersnap crust for our restaraunt.  Sounds yummy, right?
As my kitchen aid is whishing about I begin adding the egg additions.  The first few eggs are added without any incident & I am feeling overly confident.

Then the un-egg-spected occurs.

I begin to add my next egg addition and would you like to know what happened next?
That little sucker slips out of my hands & lands into the cheesecake batter.
While the kitchen aid is mixing!

I hear intense sounds of egg crunching & I tell myself to not overreact.  I can fix this, I can save the cheesecake!
I turn the machine off & realize that freaking out is in order.
It has never occured to me just how much damage a little egg could create.
Thousands, no, millions of egg shell pieces are now mixed into the batter and there is absolutely no hope of rectifying the situation.

The batter needs to be dumped into the trash & I need to start over.
Which would not seem so terribly awful, but I did not have the two incredibly important ingredients necessary to re-make the batter.
EGGS & CREAM CHEESE!

Bring on the tears & cussing.

 I rein in my overly charged pregnant hormones, grab my keys & money, & head out the door to go to the supermarket, again. 
I forgot to mention that I had already been to the supermarket an hour or so prior to "Cheesecake Pandemonium".
The cheesecake did get made, although it took me an entire day, and it was delicious.  (No egg shells second time around.  I decided to turn off the machine when it came to the egg additions.)

So, there you have it. 
True story!

Happy Thursday!


****update:  I just googled "fear of eggs" and there is such a thing!!!  Too funny!  It's called ovaphobia!  I nearly fell out of my seat laughing***

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