Eggs - Euan 14 months

I went to the fridge this morning to get some milk for my son’s breakfast. I took a bit longer than was safe or practical because as I attempted to close the fridge door a hand, followed swiftly by a head and ultimately a tiny body, rounded the door and blocked its path. He looked up and smiled. This bought my 14 month old sparing partner enough time to deflect me from my counter move of physically moving the nimble obstacle himself. He pointed to the eggs and said “Ga”? At this stage of our relationship he already had me trained to recognise this command as “What are those things Dad”? I was like a Rabbit staring at the proverbial! I couldn’t explain verbally what the eggs were! But I needed to start breakfast soon as my departure for work was imminent. He’d communicated quite clearly with me that this was more urgent than sustenance! I was snookered. The only way I could satisfy my own conscience was to show him what they were. I took the eggs out of their former haven and asked my conqueror to follow me. We found a suitable area in the middle of the kitchen floor and sat down. I placed an egg in his outstretched hand. He turned it around again and again and for good measure again. Not a lot to it, he suggested with a disappointed look. Then it happened. His pressure increased and the egg collapsed in on itself. Now, this was something altogether different. The shattered shell was a wondrous work of art. The broken yolk, an astonishing aesthetic infusion and the egg white a delightfully welcoming messiness. After a moment of intense pleasure the resulting pulp lost its hold over him. He stared at me, smiled that smile and asked in a clear and definitive voice “Ga”? So I did my duty and went for another, while pondering how many eggs this quest would take and if brunch was an acceptable time to start work.