Goldfish and eggs

“No, we have to go now!” My Dolly stood in front of me with that look on her face, insistent on going to the pet store. We inherited a few goldfish the day before, and they needed a place of their own. And food. Goldfish apparently don’t do well without it. She was very concerned.
I understood, but I happened to be standing there with a spatula in my hand. My non-transferable duties as Sunday morning short-order cook, however, could apparently be superseded under the right circumstances.
I should note that assignment of the short-order cook role is usually my own fault. Asking what anyone wants just gets me multiple answers, none of which appeal to anyone else.
But this morning, since I was the only one still in line for breakfast, I was promoted to chauffeur, and off we went.
I have a stand by for such situations: quick egg sandwiches. Easy, good for when I have only a couple of minutes, and much better than any fast-food versions.
So, once our new pets were swimming around their new tank, the immediate concerns were solved. I went back to being the cook, but only briefly.
Now, I have to figure out how to get through the Sunday paper in one shot.

3 responses to “Goldfish and eggs

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