Hubby is in charge of cooking around here when he's home, but when he's gone or busy I do try to help out. I'll be honest, I haven't cooked anything in a while, a long while due to being sick then on deadline. I also hadn't used my ATM card in weeks since I didn't go shopping so forgot the password and can't for the life of me remember it. Not good.
I don't complain about what hubby cooks because, well, he's doing it and I'm not. If there's something I don't feel like eating, I'll say so when he asks what I want, but pretty much whatever hubby puts in front of me I eat.
Until yesterday.
Yesterday morning, I was starving. I couldn't believe how hungry I was so hubby offered to make me an omelet. TA couple eggs, some spinach and mushrooms. I skip the cheese after Whole 30. Easy-peasy, right?
I took a bite.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
What the... I spit it out.
Omelets shouldn't crunch when you chew. At least none I've had.
I studied what was on my plate. It looked like an omelet but it sure didn't taste like one.
I faced a big dilemma. Here I was with breakfast in bed that my wonderful hubby had cooked. Except I had no idea what those crunching granules were. My "no complaining" rule was mocking me.
I decided to try another bite.
Same thing.
At this point I'm dying to eat. The kids Halloween candy was looking like a healthy breakfast option. I told my youngest to ask dad if he put anything crunching into the omelet because this one tasted funny.
A minute later, hubby appeared bedside with a very contrite look on his face. He told me "some" of the egg shell "may have" fallen in to the omelet.
That explained the crunchies.
