In effort to lighten the mood some around these parts I have a funny story for you. Or maybe it isn’t funny and it is totally dumb. But the good news is I cannot see you therefore I will never know if you laughed or not.

Early on when my guy and I were dating we weren’t engaged yet but very close. However, it was one of my first times in an apartment by myself with no roommate. I lived in a so/so neighborhood in Indianapolis, but it actually was Speedway. Yes that Speedway (where the 500 is). There was crime but it wasn’t rampant. And you are wondering why I am including the tidbit about crime right? Wait you’ll see.

So anyway, I wanted to whip up an romantic summer meal. Now I cannot even remember what I made, but I decided it would be yummy to make deviled eggs to go with it. At this point I had little culinary practice and operated mostly out of the microwave. Therefore, why not place my unboiled eggs into a dish of water and boil them in the microwave, right? Sounds simple enough.

By this time my guy had arrived and we were fixing dinner together in my tiny kitchen when I pushed the button on the microwave to start the eggs. And then, all the sudden we heard this horrendous pop. A pop that we both believed to be gunfire. A pop that gave him the instinct to be protective and take me down covering my body in his.

When we recovered we were covered in shrapnel of sorts except it was from the now dead and dismembered microwave and the four eggs that pretty much disintegrated. We both giggled so hard sitting there on the floor at thinking we were being shot at. We giggled until the moment our noses caught up to the happenings.

Ever blown up an egg in the mircowave and smelled the after effects? Ever see what happens when you do this? Let’s just say the door of the microwave was forever removed and what parts were in tact smelled bad enough that they ended up in the garbage. The mess took weeks to get off walls of the kitchen and even the bedroom later. It was bad and stinky.

The even sillier part looking back is that my guy would have never ever touched a deviled egg. But he was offered a rare opportunity to be chivalrous and he did it. Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence that a month later he proposed and I said yes.  A guy that protects you from a shooting microwave egg is surely worth a lifetime, right?


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