No Accounting for Taste

This morning Z asked if she could have 'doubled eggs' for breakfast. Last night we had sliced hard-boiled eggs on the salad, and there were two extras that she helped me peel and knew were in the fridge. She sliced them, popped the yolks into a bowl, watched me add the condiments, then attacked them with a fork. Then she announced that she was going to fill the white parts and lick the moosh out of them because she doesn't like the white and only wants the moosh. I suggested she eat the moosh with a spoon instead and let me take the whites for lunch. Happiness for all except J who had to leave the table. It was too early for him to watch and smell Z eating 'doubled' egg moosh for breakfast.