I bet no one can top what I had for breakfast yesterday morning. J said he wanted eggs. I looked at him like he had lost his mind... if I was cooking, he was getting cereal or an english muffin. That is how I roll in the mornings, especially mornings that do not involve coffee (which is Monday-Thursday and I treat myself on weekends... don't judge). However, he said he was cooking. Alrighty then.
Note to self: do not leave husband in the kitchen unattended.
I walked in and he told me not to look. This was the first sign that something could be potentially wrong and/or harmful to my health. When breakfast was ready, my eggs were very colorful. This was sign number two.
So what did he actually cook for me to eat? What was so special about these eggs? They were semi-scrambled, more omeletish. ISH. And these eggs included red bell peppers, onions, black beans, and hot dog weenies.
Yep, I said hot dog weenies. Told you my breakfast was better than yours.
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