When Emmeline started kindergarten last year, I admit I was a little weepy — OK, a LOT weepy. Really, it was uncouth.
I sort of wandered around the city for a few days, as if someone had just kicked me in the soul, thinking to myself, “Where’d my buddy go anyway?”
When she started first grade a few weeks ago, I may or may not have stopped the car to let her out before Dana and I hustled over to a new favorite restaurant to enjoy some coffee in our new-found peace and quiet. And also to enjoy this, the rebel within.
By the time the poor kid got home from school, I had consumed nearly 50 of these things in an orgy of egg consumption that would have had even Cool Hand Luke looking uneasy.
“How was your first day? Awesome! Because I had a muffin with a freaking egg inside it!”