In which I mistake my child for a breakfast food

Don't worry, she's fine.

This morning my sweet husband let me sleep in. After he got out of the shower, he came back in and said, "Can I bring you an egg?"

"Ooh, yes! Though what I really want is coffee. CAFFEINATED coffee, please."

So he brought me Meg and went down while I fed her. We followed in due time, and sure enough, that elixir of caffeinated happiness was perking and smelling wonderful, but there were no frying pans or eggs or anything egg-related around.

So I said, "The coffee smells wonderful! Thank you! Did you decide not to do the eggs?"

He gave me a look of complete bewilderment. "What eggs?"

"Didn't you ask if I wanted eggs? Earlier?"

"No..."

"But..."

"Are you sure you didn't ask me for eggs, and I said 'okay' without hearing you?"

"It was after your shower. I didn't dream it - I dreamed about the birch tree and the moon, but I'm sure I was awake about the eggs. You asked if I wanted an egg, and I said yes!"

He laughed. "I asked if you wanted Meg."

Oh.

Not that I don't love her, but she's not good for breakfast. So we had toast with strawberry jam.