The Egg Came Second

This has been a really exciting week around our house. For the first time in five years, eating eggs is not a potentially dangerous activity that results in quarantines and hazmat clean-up gear. Tater Tot spent five hours cooped (chicken pun) up in a tiny 7x7 foot room at the allergy clinic on Monday, and emerged triumphant: an Egg Eater.



Tater Tot was diagnosed with food allergies at the ripe old age of six months. We walked into the allergy clinic that day with plans to stop at McDonald's on the way home, but when we left, we drove straight home instead. She had tested positive for Peanut, Egg, Dairy, Wheat and Soy. I had no idea what we could eat, and I was terrified that even one more allergen-riddled meal from McD's would put Tater back in the hospital again.

It took me a long time to figure out the whole allergy elimination diet thing. Since I was nursing her, I got to cut out all those foods as well. I have to admit that cutting all foods containing those ingredients is the most successful diet I've ever encountered. I dropped weight like a ton of bricks. I was also ravenously hungry for almost a year until I weaned her. She eventually outgrew the wheat and soy, but she was still fairly young when she did, so it wasn't that big a deal in her eyes.





This is different.

She's been watching her brothers enjoy eggs for a long time. She's seen the difference that eggs make when I make Puff Pancakes for the guys. She gets a non-egg version we've dubbed Anti-Puff, and it's as flat and heavy as can be. She's missed out on treats at birthday parties because they contained eggs. Easter was my nemesis.

At the clinic, the eggs I brought for her food challenge were cold and she had to get a lot of them down. It took her a while to figure out how to chew and swallow them. She's never experienced anything quite like them, she told me. "They're kind of like gum," she informed us at the clinic. She wasn't too sure what all the fuss was about.

Now, a few days later, she's become totally obsessed. Every time I turn around, she's either asking for eggs to eat, holding eggs, telling someone else about eggs, or, as I caught her doing this morning, kissing eggs and talking to them in the sing-song voice she uses on dolls and babies.

Imagine if you were suddenly allowed to have something that everyone else has had for years. Since you've never been allowed to have it, you don't know anything about it. Wouldn't you become a little preoccupied?


We spent yesterday at the grocery store walking through the aisles looking for things that she can have now. Meringues, brownies, egg noodles, egg rolls, deviled eggs, mayonnaise, chicken salad, macaroons. It was the most fun I've had grocery shopping in ages.

I am fielding questions about eggs that have never even crossed my mind. For example:

Can you heat one up in the microwave?
Do you eat the shell? Ever? Why not?
Why is the yolk yellow?
Can the yolk be any other colors?
Could the white be other colors?
Would you still call it the white if it wasn't white?
Why is it called the white anyway?
Why is it called a yolk?
Why is the yolk always in the middle when you boil it?
How many different ways can you cook one?
Why does it make Puff Pancakes puff up?
Why do we have to cook them?
What's salmonella?
Was there a chick in here?
Why is the yolk crumbly and not the white?

The list goes on and on and on and on...

This morning, I taught her how to peel a boiled egg. You'd have thought I invented the sun, moon and stars. She was that thrilled. We now have a rather large pile of peeled, boiled eggs in the fridge. She keeps cracking the door open to peek in at them. I never thought I'd enjoy eggs quite so much.

And, I don't even like eggs. I don't think I'll tell her that yet.