Doubles anyone?

Many days Mr. L will read tidbits out of the newspaper to me while I get the cats fed, make the coffee and get the breakfast going.  (Since he does 85% of the work for cooking dinner, I think I'm getting off easy on this--but don't tell him that.)

Anyway, yesterday I was fixing my breakfast--poached egg in the microwave--when Mr. L read a short piece on Celine Dion and her baby twins.


I cracked open my egg and wouldn't you know it -- a double yoke.



How cool was that?