Hard wild eggs

My children are like me in many ways. Routine oriented. Stubborn. Dark-haired, and dark-eyed. Okay... so maybe not the last one. (Theresa had to give them something, I guess)

My boy children need to eat breakfast as soon as they get up from their nap. Almost the first words out of their mouths are "I'm hungry!" And yes, they really do take naps at night. They last about 10 hours or so, but apparently, in the world of Grayson and Noah, whenever one lays down to sleep, it is to take a nap.

Generally, breakfast consists of those all-time staples - cold cereal or instant oatmeal. (Although it really is not all that instant when you put five or six packets into a large mixing bowl and put it in the microwave for about 8 minutes.) If we happen to have fresh fruit on hand, which we generally do, they will often snack on some grapes or watermelon until the oatmeal is ready.

This morning, Grayson wanted some eggs. Theresa and I had eggs for dinner a few nights ago, which prompted him to ask for eggs for breakfast. I forgot about them yesterday, so he reminded me this morning while he was helping me get out of bed. He wanted eggs with ortillas. No, that wasn't a typo. For some reason, Grayson's tortillas are missing a "t". So I got Mattea and Noah some cereal and Grayson watched me scramble some eggs for him, and heat up his ortilla. While we were cooking Grayson's breakfast, Noah asked "Are those hard wild eggs?" He had remembered the hard boiled eggs that we had colored for Easter and perhaps thought that all eggs were hard wild eggs. I don't really know why some ideas become ingrained in the mind of a toddler. Maybe he is the only one that truly understands that the product of a free range chicken must be a hard wild egg.