Boom Goes the Egg

“It’s not my job.” How often do you hear these words uttered at the work place? It’s not my job to sit here and listen to you stating it’s not your job, yet here we are…

I am often asked to assist with tasks at work that are not necessarily “recreation.” I’ve been asked to insert dentures, clean reading glasses, locate one’s remote control and make his/her bed. 

But I look at it this way: dentures are needed to eat and dining out is leisurely, one needs glasses to read and write, it’s impossible to watch the television without a remote control and rest is the best kind of recreation.

In Rose Blurred Glasses, I pretended I knew what I was talking about. Today, I pretended I knew what to do in the kitchen.

Last week a resident decided to opt out on breakfast and shockingly his stomach was growling by 10:00am. 

He approached me in the activity room and asked if I could grab him a hard boiled egg and a piece of toast with butter. Challenge accepted. 

I opened my big mouth and asked if he wanted the hard boiled egg to be warm. I should have left well enough alone…

I popped the hard boiled egg in the microwave before I tracked down the bread.

Not even 10 seconds later, there was a “POP!”

The resident yelled, “I think the egg just blew up!” (Let the whole neighbourhood know, why don’t ya?)

I cautiously peaked into the microwave to find hard boiled egg remains in every nook and cranny. It was messier than a baby eating blueberries. 

The resident exclaimed, “I just can’t believe that happened. What are the odds?”  

With me, the probability is very high.

I placed the bread in the toaster and turned to him and said, “now, let’s hope I don’t blow this up too.” His laughter was contagious.

Shortly after, the resident was on his way with his bread, butter and a cold hard boiled egg.

That’s not my job – thank goodness. 

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