Ketchup and eggs
by Estelle Bruno
As a young baby, perhaps a year old, I have a memory of sitting on my
fathers lap, in front of a coal stove to keep us warm, while my mother
cooked soft boiled eggs for him every morning. He would break off
a piece of his toast, dip it in the egg, and feed it to me. This was our
Now, seventy somewhat years later, my very grown up daughter calls
me many mornings to check if I am eating an egg -"you must have protein
to begin every day" she reminds me.
I think I am starting to hate that egg ritual. Do I really need this in my golden
years? Does it ever stop?