The boys apparently survived their weekend together, without me.

Someone asked me if I missed the baby.  "What baby?"  I replied.  No, I really did miss both my boys for our 48-hour separation.  The Boo and I spend all together too much time with each other and it's good for us to take a break.  It is also good for Dad to see WHY Mom is always threatening to kill herself.

D:  He did pretty well, except he didn't eat his eggs the way he eats them for you.
K:  What do you mean?
D:  Well he just pushed them around the tray and only ate a little.  I guess he likes the way you make them better.
K:  Did you put cheddar in them? 
D:  I couldn't find it.

I went over to the fridge, opened the door, and pulled out the Ziploc with a block of cheese in it from the second shelf.  The block of cheese had CHEDDAR in 72 point font written on the packaging.

K:  I could see how you couldn't find it.  It was very well hidden. 
D:  (ignoring me) so I put ricotta in his eggs instead.
K:  What? 
D:  It was there.  On the shelf.
K:  Cause it was on the shelf doesn't mean you should put it in the kid's eggs.
D:  Oh, well.
K:  I'm shocked the kid didn't want lasagna eggs.
D:  Not everyone has that weird food mixing thing you have.

I don't like my food to touch.  And I don't want to hear how it all mixes in your stomach.  I don't care.  It grosses me out if they touch each other on the plate.  I allow for casseroles and food that is supposed to touch.  I'll put cheddar on an omelette.  But just because I adore ricotta cheese doesn't mean I think it should ever be in the same room with cooked eggs.  And from the looks of it, I may have bred another one of my small crowd.  WooHoo to the non-touching food crowd.