The Politics of Ketchup

There are only two kinds of people: those who like ketchup on their eggs and those who have yet to become enlightened. Like any household, the Vance homestead is sharply divided across this bottomless chasm of ideological difference. On one side sit Janna and I; on the other sit Jesse and my otherwise-refined bride.

Robyn was the question mark. I am happy to report that she has joined the light side of the force.

Robyn takes a moment to reflect on her first encounter with ketchup on eggs.
(Then she gobbled them down like champ.)

Janna has long been acclimatized to the combination of ketchup and egg, to the point where, upon being served eggs, she will stare at me expectantly until a goop of reddish awesomeness has been deposited on top. This look on her face says, "Thanks for making the world right, Dad."

Jesse rebelliously munching on naked eggs. Note that the overturned bottle is certainly a gesture of unapologetic defiance against all the is right and good in the world.

It pains me to say that Chrissy shares in this unnatural resistance to the very natural and pure combination of egg and ketchup. She fails to see the incredible symbolism in the red comb on top of the rooster's head.

Ah, well. She just made me gluten-free pancakes, and I love her.

Good night everyone!
Until next time...