A Watched Pot

Water boils merrily in the pot, sending steaming tendrils through the air.
“Momma, I wanna do da tongs!”
“OK, Love, but be very careful cause it’s hot! See, I’ll help you. Drop the egg in, very gently!”
Bonhomme watches in hushed excitement. The eggs slowly turn in the water in a stately dance. One has cracked, just slightly, from the rapid temperature shift, and thin ghostly ribbons of egg white tangle in the water.
“Look, Love, how that egg cracked a little bit?”
“It cracked?”
“Yup, just a little. And see how that little bit of egg white came out of the shell and is swirling?”
“Yeah!”
Bonhomme bounces on his stool, transfixed. He keeps watching, eyes glued to the pot.
The cracked egg bobs up and down, keeping time with the simmering bubbles, now more buoyant than the others.
“Momma!” Bonhomme shrieks in delight. “The eggs are kissing! They are KISSING!”
I bend down to hug my son tightly to me, my heart about to burst as surely as the too-cold egg.
“You’re right, they are. The eggs are kissing. Would you look at that.”

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