Many, many years ago, this blog used to be called Random Ramblings. There are those of you out there who will remember this little historical tidbit. When I started writing for Tananda.com, and when Tananda and I started brainstorming what my alter-virtual-personality would be called, we agreed upon Tangent…because I frequently go off on one.
Last night, my son and I were talking about online safety (stuff he should be aware of now that he is in middle school and owns a tablet) and I said something about my blog. “What’s a blog, mom?”
In typical Jen fashion, I pulled my laptop over, opened it up and went directly to my blog for visual aid purposes. I did not pass go. I did not collect $200.00.
“Mom? Is your blog safe for me to read?”
“Mostly. There are a few things in here I’d rather you didn’t read yet. I write this thing for a grown up audience, not with kiddos in mind.”
“Mom? Is there anything I can read on here? Like, now?”
So, I spent a little bit of time researching a old posts, doing a quick mental check of content, and then proceeded to read a couple of them aloud to him. He responded appropriately in all the places that require laughs, chuckles, guffaws, snickers, and even an occasional snort. I’m not really trying to be funny, but apparently I am - at least on occasion.
“Mom? Why is your blog called …Off on a Tangent?”
“Well, do you know what a tangent is?” (Considering quickly that there is also an explanation that is math-related and deciding not to go there, since math is most definitely not my strong point.)
“So, you know how sometimes someone might be talking about one thing and then all of the sudden they’re talking about something else completely different? And maybe you’re not quite sure how they got from one thing to another? That’s called going off on a tangent. Think of it like a river. You’ve got the main, big river – which is your main, big thought – and then suddenly you branch off into another, smaller river – a tributary – which is a tangent. Do you understand what I mean?”
“Yep. Can we read more?”
“Nope. It’s bedtime.”
Followed by lots of complaining and shuffling of feet.
I bring all of this to your attention as preface to my actual reason for this post: Eggs.
So, you know how you like your eggs. And I know how I like my eggs. And my sister and I like our eggs the same way when we’re feeling somewhat blue and need comfort food. And Joe Blow down the street likes his eggs scrambled…barely.
I like my eggs past soft-boiled, but not quite hard-boiled, peeled, mashed into oblivion and mixed with butter, salt and crumbled up Triscuit crackers.
I like my eggs scrambled, with ketchup.
I like my eggs fried, over-hard, yolks broken – like shoe leather.
I like my eggs hard-boiled. With salt.
I like my eggs mixed with yummy stuff to create other yummy stuff like meatloaf, and cake! (Oooh! Cake. Is there chocolate? Oooh! Chocolate. Oh! Wait. See what I mean about tangents?)
I don’t like my eggs poached.
I don’t like my eggs runny. Eeew. (Unless there’s an abundance of toast, and then I can dip or sop.)
But really – eggs are just about the best thing ever. Unless you have bacon, in which case you are my new BFF (…sorry, Kit!) because bacon is, in fact, the World’s most perfect food. Extra crispy, please?