This morning, in her room, Teagan was playing waitress with her dainty, pretty, pink, little girly-girl kitchen- the place where God's design of girls unfolds in those precious early years of life. The place where you're moved to tears at the sight of your daughter embracing the joys or motherhood, wifery, and the childhood experience. The place where the imagination concocts the most fabulous of edible delights...well sometimes.
Teagan brought me an assortment of "eggs" that she described as: "scrambled, or sunny over-sided eggs, soft-boiled eggs, and (my favorite) oh!- don't eat those red ones- they taste like rotten dead baby chicks...but don't worry Mom, I won't serve those to the guests."
So- who's coming over for dinner?
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