hard boiled

One morning, around christmas time, I walked into our kitchen to find that T (4 1/2) and A (1 1/2) had teamed up, opened a jar of Nutella and shared the sweet treasure, in even sweeter harmony.

Whereas I don’t know precicely how this came to be, it’s safe to say that there’s nothing odd about the matter as such.

In a recent weird spin-off to this event I to encountered them both sitting in the living room the other day. T was munching on a boiled egg, while her little sister was next to her, content and chewing something that gave off a ‘crunch-crunch’ sound. “What’s A eating?”, I inquired. “Egg shell”, came the casual reply and everybody went on doing what they did.

I left the room on the conclusion that some secrets of sisterhood will remain obscure to the parental mind and was off to boil another egg.

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