On Saturday night as Favorite Husband, myself and a friend sat around the campfire at Cow Lake, the peacefulness and adult conversation was loudly interrupted by frantic crying. That's our boy wailing! FH left the fireside to rescue W and this is what he found: W still wearing his Grobag, met FH at the door of the trailer with an egg in one hand & a frying pan in the other. His bedclothes & "duck" (mini-blanket that he sleeps with) were covered in egg as was the floor due to the 9 eggs that had been smashed into a pile of slippery goo. FH responded with a firm "W what have you done?!" only to have the wailing increase. So, the two made their way to the fire where W was deposited in a chair beside me so that FH could return to the trailer and the egg disaster. I questioned W in a very sweet, friendly voice with the hopes that he would open up & tell me what happened if I didn't sound angry, "Did you get out of bed (aka playpen)?" "Were you in the fridge?" Staring at me with wide eyes, batting long thick eyelashes, silent...until he finally signed and said, "More eggs".
Hungry? Egg obsessed? Probably both.
During W's fireside vigil, his first experience with a campfire, he would point at the fire and state, "No! No! Hot! Burrrn." Burn....new word of the weekend.