Egg-specting It Every Time

(I’ve never been able to eat eggs when they’re served on their own. It’s not an allergy, since I can eat them in baking with no problems. There’s something about the taste, smell, and texture that makes me gag. My mother-in-law has always known this about me, and yet… during a Christmas visit in 1992…)

Mother-In-Law: “[My Name], have some of this breakfast dish I made.”

Me: “No, thank you; I’ll just have some toast.”

Mother-In-Law: “Why not? I worked hard on that!”

Me: “It has eggs in it.”

Mother-In-Law: “Oh. Right.”

(During another visit in 1999…)

Mother-In-Law: “Ah, [My Name], there you are. I saved you some scrambled eggs.”

Me: “Um…”

Two-Year-Old Daughter: “Mummy doesn’t like eggs!”

Mother-In-Law: “What? Since when?”

(During another visit in 2012…)

Mother-In-Law: “[My Name], have a bagel tuna melt.”

Me: “Thank you! I love bagel melts.” *takes a bite* “Um, is there egg in the tuna?”

Mother-In-Law: “Of course!” *as though I am stupid to ask*

Me: *quietly to my husband* “Would you like mine? I’ll just have the soup.”

(It’s been over twenty-five years now, and I don’t think she’ll change. We’ve never gotten along, so I suspect that she’s “forgetting” on purpose.)