Rotten or Best Kaho-ickey Eggs

Do you ever feel like you've spent the whole day boiling eggs?

And you have nothing to show for it except a smelly house.

That's how today was. We got a jump start on boiling our Easter eggs. Which would be great. If we were having the egg hunt inside the boys' stomachs.

They ate them as fast as I cooked them. And that would be fine. But they snacked on them like popcorn. That is, they reclined on the couch, looking at comic books and popping eggs into their mouths as yolks crumbled all over the cushions.

I recently read an article that demanded that people preserve the dignity of childhood. Clearly this author has never seen children eat eggs.

J.J. stood within inches of his brothers' faces and demanded, "Godagodagodagoda."

Which means, "Give me your eggs. I am the king of the eggs."

He forgot one thing: he hates eggs.

But his new stuffed animal, Mushabelly Monkey, loves them. Apparently. J.J. fed him about three of them.

Now, it's not like I would allow an egg free-for-all in our house.

I followed the boys around saying, "Get a plate! Get a plate!" And they did, eating eggs all the way into the kitchen.

Every day, I can't help but feel like a cocktail waitress in our house.

Between trips to the dishwasher, I return with a notepad asking, "Can I get you anything else, boys? Another round of milk? Dessert? The check?"

"None of the above," they say. "Just more eggs."

Something else I noticed while boiling the eggs: Reading may empower a child. But not being able to read empowers them a little bit, too. Richie moves his finger under words and just makes things up.

Johnny had to bring three hard boiled eggs to school for an Easter project.

Of course, he carefully inspected the eggs that went into the pot. Nothing less than perfection would do.

Well, to get Johnny's goat, Richie put his finger on the egg carton and said slowly, pretending to read, "Rot...ten...Eggs."

But Johnny, who is a beginning reader, said, "No, it says, 'Best Kaho-ickey eggs.'"

"What does that mean?" Richie said.

Johnny shrugged.

When kids first sound out words, they could care less if it makes sense. Their theory is, "Who knows what the grownups write on their stupid egg cartons. All's I know is that "c" sounds like "kuh" and "h" sounds like "huh" and "o" sounds like "ah" and "i" sounds like "i" and c sounds like "kuh and "e" sounds like "ee."

So "b-e-s-t c-h-o-i-c-e" spells "best kaho-ickey." Whatever that means.

I would love to pretend read some things. To open the mail and, moving my finger over the bill, say, "Huh. We don't have to pay our mortgage this month. See it says, 'Please...do...not...pay...immediately.'"

Or just sound everything out and have nothing make sense.

"Says here I have a dee ad linny on Friday. My art ick ly is du ee by 8 a.m. What's a dee ad linny? Or an art ick ly? Once again, makes no sense, so I'm disregarding it."

And that's just the words that have spelling rules the kids haven't learned yet. What about the words that break the rules, like "laugh"?

In fact, there is a movement afoot to change spellings, my friend told me. They would change the "gh" in words like laugh and enough to "ff". I also think ch, sh, and th need their own letters. C and q don't seem to be doing anything except copying other letters. The same goes for "sometimes y."

Making reading easier for the kahildren...now that really would be the best kaho-ickey.