Boiled eggs.

I love em.

In my effort to cut back on my nearly ALL-carb diet, I decided to boil a couple last night. I planned to consume one once they were cooked, and the other egg I planned to refridgerate until breakfast tomorrow while I’m on the air.

Oh, how plans change.

My 7-year-old spotted the eggs and asked if he could have one for a bedtime snack. “Sure,” I responded.

Griffin then hugged me tight and said, “Mom, you’re the best. You made that other one for me to take in my lunch to school, didn’t you?

“You bet,” I told him. How did that happen? I started with two, lost one, and when all was said and done, had zero, and was still hungry. Yet, I scored points in the good Mom department.

And then I boiled two more.

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