The best damn eggs ever
I whipped up a batch of scrambled eggs the other day. Just like Dad taught me, with a spoonful of cottage cheese to make them light and fluffy. Seriously, this is the only way to eat scrambled eggs.
It’s funny, the things you remember, and the things you don’t. I’m suddenly reminded of Dad when I’m making scrambled eggs, but when I sit down and purposely try to remember, I can’t seem to recall a thing.
With a little help from my sis, I managed to put together a list of a few classic “Dadisms”:
- “For God’s sake, do not drop lettuce in the car. You won’t find it and it will rot and stink up the car.”
“Always borrowing your sisters’ clothes. You’re all a bunch of communists.”
“I drink Cranapple juice every day. I haven’t had a cold in 15 years.”
“That guy just pulled out of nowhere. Hey turkey! Watch where you’re going!”
“Where’s your coat?”
“Dadism” were usually followed by a certain look. Sort of a frown/grimace.
As I recall, Dad guided my sister’s and I through life with these slightly eccentric “isms” and a gentle, yet firm grip around our necks.
