One of the memories that I have is associated with eggs and it's quite funny, at least to me.
Before I went to school that morning, my mom told the maid that if she's still not home when I get home, the maid should cook some omelet for me. Easy enough, right? The reason for the simple meal was, the maid didn't know how to cook.
Before giving the said instructions, my mom asked the maid if she at least knew how to cook a simple omelet. The maid was indignant, and answered mom proudly that she can cook simple things, including an omelet. So mom and I left the house, me for school and mom for her sister's house.
Fast forward to lunch time. I arrived home from school, terribly tired and hungry. When the maid saw me, she immediately prepared to cook the omelet. When she served it to me, I tried eating it. After one spoonful, I started crying and stopped eating. My mom arrived a little after lunch and asked me if I had eaten lunch. I cried again and answered her in the negative.
Mom stormed to the kitchen and asked the maid for some explanation as to why I have not yet eaten. The maid explained, told my mom that I cried and stopped eating after she served the omelet. I remember my mom's face when she saw what the maid cooked for me.
She asked, "Is this hotcake? I said cook omelet." Yes, the omelet looked like overcooked hotcakes. Apparently, the maid beat the eggs too stiffly, thus the hard omelet. Good thing mom had something for me in her bag, so I munched on it while waiting for the perfect omelet that my mom made and still makes to this day.