"Don't drop the eggs!" Mom shouted.  My hands reached for the carton as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.  "We need 6 eggs," echoed from across the counter.  Carefully, I counted and placed the eggs in a mixing bowl.  "That's fine.  Now, run and get your brother out of bed.  We're going to make a special breakfast for your father!" Mom prompted.
    In a flash, my legs raced to the bedroom, retrieved my brother and pulled a stool up to the counter.  "Can I read the directions? I asked.  Mom nodded and proceeded to pour herself a cup of coffee.  "First, we need to beat the eggs with a wire whisk."   My hands scrambled through the tools in the drawer.
    Before I could say another word, Mom took the bowl of eggs and began to break them open.  "This part requires practice!" she muttered as she smiled at me.  Yellow orbs swirled around in the bowl.  "What's next?" she quizzed.  We took turns whirling the mixture around and around with the whisk.  A frothy, bubbly white top formed above the eggs.
    After the mixing was done, Mom turned on the skillet.  My brother rubbed his eyes and laid his head back down on the bar.  His hair spiked up in the middle of his head.  He looked like Alfalfa from the Little Rascals.  Mom and I chuckled to ourselves.  As we poured the egg mixture onto the skillet, I placed a secret message written on a piece of paper into the top.  My hands flipped the omelet and hid the note.
    "Dad, your breakfast is ready!" I hollered upstairs.  He walked into the breakfast nook and smiled.  After his first bite, the piece of paper peeked out of the middle of the eggs.    "What's this?" he asked with a wrinkled look on his face.  As he read the words WE LOVE YOU DAD, the wrinkles turned to a big smile.
    Cooking breakfast was a lot of fun.  But, the special smile on my dad's face was the best part of the recipe.