Culinary Encounters

At lunch, I made Joe’s tiny pizza, sprinkling cheese over the top. However, some of the mozzarella shreds fell on the plate instead of the pizza. Yali placed two fists indignantly on his hips.

“Mom! You waste my money!”

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Later that evening, Yali had forgotten about the lunch incident, and followed me into the kitchen.

“Excuse me, Mama?”

“Yes, Yali?”

“Are you making egg salad?”

“I am.”

“Oo-ooh! That looks delicious!”

“Can I smell them?”

“You want to smell hard-boiled eggs?”

He nodded. I handed him the container and he took a big whiff.

“Oo-ooh!”