Ollie and Me: “My egg-in-the-hole-in-one”

Someone wiser than me once said, “With grandchildren, you get your children back.”

Grandson Ollie, soon to be five, marched into the house this morning talking a mile a minute and almost instantly (I was only half through my coffee) enlivened me with his youthful enthusiasm and energy. He engaged me in conversations with flavours reminiscent of the ones I enjoyed when my own sons were his age and I was thankful for the experience (now expected, not as genuinely surprising as only a few years ago) of having one foot in today, the other in yesteryear, at precisely the same moment.

I quickly thought of a way to repay Ollie for his magic touch and said, “Have you had breakfast? Have you ever had egg-in-the-hole?”

He shook his head and raced toward the kitchen, and because the works - and a sharp knife - were already on the kitchen counter I followed close behind.


Crusts were already off the bread, square holes were waiting to receive an egg, butter was melting in the fry pan and it wasn’t long before our egg-in-the-hole breakfast, with cheese slice on top, was making a sizzling sound on the stove, much to our combined delight.

While we waited I served up “the world’s largest PB&J sandwiches” (the squirrels get the crusts, but we get the holes) and Ollie ate the two of them so fast I barely had time to snap a picture.


["Ollie ate the two of them so fast... : photos by GH]

I know I get my children back at times like these, but I wonder if, sometime in the distant future, Ollie will make egg-in-the hole and “the world’s largest PB&J sandwiches” and experience getting his Grandpa back?

(I never met my grandfathers, so my memory banks concerning them are almost empty).

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