Cracking Eggs

Ammon worked for many years in the food service industry, and took many food safety classes. When he was employed as an assistant general manager for Taco Bell in Ogden, Utah, he spent several entire days achieving his various certifications with food safety. As a result, I was forced to learn how to cook in an entirely food safe way. I have lost count of the number of times over the years that Ammon would wander into the kitchen and correct my method of preparing food. One of his biggest pet peeves was cracking eggs. Because we haven't had a garbage disposal for years, I had briefly gotten into the habit of cracking an egg, and then placing the empty shell back inside the carton of eggs, and putting the carton back into the fridge. I say briefly, because once Ammon discovered this practice, he raised a holy ruckus until I promised never to do it again. I got a lengthy discourse on the various bacteria that live in eggs, and the different afflictions it could cause a body if digested. The other morning, I was preparing scrambled eggs for breakfast. My trash can was overflowing, and as I cracked the first egg, I internally wondered where I would put the shell. Not on the counter, because I wouldn't want any egg bacteria to get on the counter top and contaminate our lunch meat later in the day. Suddenly, it occurred to me that the food safety police couldn't read me the riot act if I disobeyed the rules. I placed the empty egg shell back into the carton, and the next shell, and the next until I had cracked enough eggs to feed my entire family for breakfast. Somewhere, I'm sure, Ammon was watching me and shaking his head. It gives me a special sort of glee to defy him in these ways. I wonder if I commit a sin egregious enough, if he'll come back and force me to stop.