I made the kids’ breakfast exactly as requested: cinnamon raisin toast, sliced honey crisp apples, and eggs. (“Eggy eggy eggy! Oi! Oi! Oi!”) Apparently I fucked it up. They were all excited about over easy eggs the day before, but this day were in more of a I-want-my-eggs-scrambled-but-don’t-feel-like-communicating-it mood.
I thought it looked good, anyway, so I took a picture. Possibly to passive aggressively show them how unappreciative they were being… (Now to set a Google calendar reminder to show them this post 20 years from now…)