My Ghostbusters Adventure

A movie I love and watch again every so often - a love shared with my youngest son, Matt, - is *Ghostbusters.*

One of my favorite scenes is when the eggs pop out of the carton in Dana Barrett's kitchen and cook on her counter. At least, it used to be.

(Pause for dramatic music. C'mon! Cue the music! Dammit. Gotta do everything myself ... oh, wait. I'm the only one here, so *I'm* the freaking slacker.)

I was boiling eggs in the microwave in a container designed for that purpose, one I've used for several years. Works like a charm. Hard-boiled eggs in nine minutes. Perfection.

Until . . . (cue music - oh, frick. That's right. It's just me.)

Anyhoo, just as the eggs were cooking along, I heard a loud POP. I turned off the microwave, opened the door, and discovered all of the eggs had exploded. Egg carnage everywhere and I mean everywhere. I expected to see a miniature dog-thing perched on the splattered remains of the eggs and growling out the name ZUUL.

THERE ARE NO EGGS, ONLY ZUUL.  (See what I mean?)

I quietly closed the microwave door, deciding cleanup could wait. Then I called my son and we had a great laugh.

Wait. Is that growling I hear from the kitchen?? And *sizzling?*


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