When I was about 30... I tried to hard boil some eggs.
I carefully selected my eggs, placed them in the boiling water and went about my business... for the next three hours.
My roommate Nancy came home about then and wanted to know what on earth I had TRIED to cook...
After I ran to the kitchen and removed my delicacies from the fire... I answered, "rubber eggs." Which they were.
Well... I tried for a repeat performance today. I filled my pot with water, placed it on the fire and then turned on the TV. About 1/2 hour later Elizabeth said, "Your water's boiling!" Yes, it was. It was nearly gone, too.
I refilled my pot and then grabbed the eggs and proceeded to BREAK EVERY ONE I TOUCHED! It was unbelieveable how clumsy I was. But I managed to get four into the pot, into the fire. I also remembered that it's best if you sprinkle salt into the water... to prevent the shells from cracking, or something. So I grabbed the salt shaker and began to shake the salt into the water. Except I shook it so hard the entire shaker flew into the water. I had to fish a soggy salt shaker out of that boiling water...
Then I returned to the TV.
And about an hour later, Rick called out to me.... "You cooking something?"
"Cuz there's no water in your pan..."
So, whether I'm 30 or 53... I'm no longer allowed to boil eggs. Never. Not at all. None.
In fact, I hate eggs.