My mom called them eggs in a basket.

The naming lends itself to the twist of the family, I do believe.

We called brussel sprouts shrunken heads, and for reasons of parental lore, pimentos were lizard tongues.

-t, there is something about swim counting that is annoyingly difficult. I use a lap counter, but I know a woman at the pool who uses something on her finger. She moves it around from pinky to thumb to count laps (starts at the pinky for lap one then slides it to her ring finger on the second lap).

I now want egg in a hole.

Hm, I like the idea of a physical thing to move around. I'll have to think about what might work for me.

I have a math degree, I should be able to figure out how to count to 8.

Ok, laundry time.

She uses nose plugs that pinch. Treats it like a ring.

I always called it toad in the hole.

Pinchy nose plugs, good to know. I am hoping I will have something lying around that will work, since I have an awful lot of things lying around.

I have gotten as far as moving all the to-be-washed laundry into the garage, I think. The sheer volume is pretty impressive. That is not all getting washed today. Fortunately, I just have to be able to dress myself for four days at the office this week; if I spend a little time prioritizing loads I should be able to manage that.

I hope the particular combination of laziness and being busy with other things that led to this laundrocalypse does not recur for a while.

So for breakfast I tried that thing where you cut a hole out of a piece of bread and fry the bread with an egg cracked in the hole (and fry the piece you cut out separately, of course, because what are you gonna do, not fry and eat some extra bread?) because I've never had that before. Pretty tasty! Fried bread is a little more delicious than toast. I wonder why - I'd've thunk bread+butter+heat would produce practically identical results. The browning of the butter in the pan, perhaps? A little extra burninating?

Egg In A Basket, which I just made for Matilda and myself, and am about to make for the just risen Emmett.

Matilda is obssessed with the fry-bread, and for her birthday, I'll cut little circles out of an extra piece of bread so she'll have so many extra rounds.

I don't have a family name for that egg toast either, -t. I think my mom made it once.

Bagels, lox and cream cheese for breakfast, then a chat with one of my favorite neighbors.

Heh, Nameless Egg Toast might be my name for it now.