This week, I think I’m going to try my hand at poaching eggs again. I did it once before, back when I was living at home, and it turned out… kind of undercooked, and for me to admit an egg is undercooked is a big deal because I love squishy gushy eggs. At least when they’re in non-scrambled form. It’s just, lately, I’ve been seeing them a lot on television and on my to-read list of food blogs, and I just want one so bad.
In other news… I’m at home this morning awaiting the arrival of the plumber. Our ancient lovely bath tub has decided in the last couple of days to stop draining, even after two doses of Drain-O. In addition, the kitchen sink has been leaking into the cabinet underneath it. This, my friends, is why the Raders are in no way prepared yet to own a home. We love having the privilege of calling the reality company and having someone come over to fix our junk fo free.
I also made a comment to the girls yesterday about how I knew I wasn’t ready for babies yet because I can’t justify adding an extra mouth to feed that doesn’t pull its own weight… no matter how cute it is, hah! Selfish? Probably. But, ya know what? Those first few years of marriage are for just that… being selfish together and spending Sunday afternoons snuggled on the couch in absolute laziness.