Over Easy
Before I fell asleep last night I started thinking about breakfast.
Some people think about what they are going to wear the next day, I think about what I’m going to have to eat.
I decided on an over-easy egg and toast with too much butter.
I married a girl from the midwest and these people know how to do butter.
I thought southerners knew how to do butter, but I was wrong.
Think of the normal amount of butter for a piece of toast and then triple it.
They don’t mess around.
Recently I’ve been on a yogurt and granola kick, but it’s time to get back to eggs and toast.
Every few months or so my stomach and brain and heart have a three-way call to discuss if it’s time to change up what we are having for breakfast.
This time they voted it was time to return to eggs and toast.
I wasn’t upset by their unanimous decision.
In the morning I filled the pan with butter and waited for it to dance.
I grabbed one egg and cracked it perfectly in the center of the pan.
It was beautiful.
White on the outside, bright yellow on the inside.
The all knowing eye of breakfast.
I waited patiently, watching the heat change the texture and color of the egg.
It wouldn’t be long before it was time to flip it over and let the other side warm up.
I wanted the other side of the egg to be kissed by the warm pan, but not for too long.
The yolk needed to be perfectly stretched out so it could run.
Is there a better bite on the face of God’s beautiful earth than buttered toast covered in runny yellow yolk?
I think not.
In life it is the small things that are the big things.
I grabbed the spatula and stepped up the pan.
This moment will either make or break your breakfast.
A perfect flip will get your day off on the right start.
A bad flip will ruin the rest of your life.
That’s just how it works.
“Don’t ruin this,” I told myself.
I slowly nestled the spatula beneath the white outside and yellow inside, careful to not disrupt the shape of the egg.
I gently lifted the egg and began to flip it over when the worst case scenario became reality: The egg didn’t flip, it flopped.
It splattered and snapped.
It was a massacre.
The yolk ran all across the pan in every direction.
Everything was ruined.
Hope vanished.
Joy extinguished.
Life ruined.
In life it is the small things that are the big things.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll have the perfect bite of buttered toast covered in runny yellow yolk.
Lord, in your mercy, hear my prayer.
