Chef Noah

We really don't have some strange fascination with eggs, even though this is my second posting in a month about them.  Today's joy came in the form of another omelet though.  It wasn't really the egg that made me smile, however, it was the boy who made it.

Tim and I tackled the yearly project of winterizing all the wooden surfaces in our backyard today.  As is the yearly ritual, in the midst of staining the deck, he was called out to a brush fire.  It happens every year, without fail.  He'll either be called out to work or through the fire department and I'm stuck holding all the brushes.  I don't mind.  Who doesn't love back spasms from stretching their arm repeatedly over their head for hours on end.  Alone.

All kidding aside, Noah kinda had to fend for himself today.  Of course, he could've ventured outside but that might result in being asked to help so we didn't see him much.  After the fire page, I snuck inside for a water and recliner break to be hit with the "I'm hungry" bomb.  I was hot, tired and had just pushed the Ahhhhh button on the chair. 

"How bout' cereal?" I said, which even though it was after 1:00 wasn't odd to suggest because he'd slept in and was still in pajamas.  Normally, he'd jump at a bowl of Lucky Charms but not today.  He was in the mood for a ham and cheese omelet.

So, I surprised him and replied, "Ok, cook it."  He was speechless for a moment and then bounced excitedly with a yip and a, "Are you serious?!"

Noah loves to cook and we've had many fun memories together in the kitchen.  The past year, he's taken an even bigger interest and I've begun to let him take the lead on many meals.  He's never used the stove unsupervised though so this was a big moment, for both of us.  Of course it wasn't completely on his own, as I was in the next room reminding him of the steps, one hand hovering over the recliner lever if a quick rush into the kitchen was required.

To my great surprise, he didn't need my help and the omelet turned out beautifully.  I was very impressed, as that is not a super easy dish for a novice cook.  The flip of the egg doesn't always cooperate and it turns out more scrambled mess than perfectly formed frittata.  His was flawless, golden yellow, bursting with flecks of ham and oozing with cheese. 

Part of me teared up a little at what this meant, my guy is growing up!  Seeing the delight in his face though at this culinary accomplishment, quickly brought a smile to mine.  I was so proud of him.  The enjoyment gave me the needed burst of energy to get back outside and complete the last set of rails on the deck too.  Great moment.  Good day.