Green eggs and Ham

Harry Potter was 6 years old, but he was almost seven. He was going to turn seven tomorrow in fact. Sadly, before he turned seven, Dudley's birthday had to turn Dudley seven first.

Harry always considered it as a test. If he could live through Dudley's birthday, he was worthy to become a year older. He HATED Dudley's birthday, of course, but he knew he would have to live through it if he was going to grow up.

"Potter, get up right now! Dudley wants pancakes for breakfast and I'm not cooking them again!"

Uncle Vernon banged on Harry's closet door.

Harry had learned to cook pancakes first. He had learned when he was five in fact. You see, Dudley's favorite breakfast food was pancakes, but Uncle Vernon burned himself on the pan every single time he tried to make them. He came up with an easy solution when Harry turned five. (It was really the day before Harry turned five.) He just told Harry to cook the pancakes, and then drove out to get takeout for breakfast.

Harry had ended up burning his right hand severely, dumping batter all over the kitchen floor, and breaking several glasses. Uncle Vernon didn't care of course, he just made Harry clean it up. After all, he didn't really expect Harry to get it right first try.

Harry made pancakes every morning until he had got them right. He was quite good at making them now. Harry tumbled out of his tiny closet and walked cautiously into the kitchen. Dudley was not up yet, he was never up at eight o clock.

Harry cooked the pancakes as quickly as he could. He got his routine yelling (this time it was for spilling batter into the burner) but didn't really pay attention. Dudley was not up yet and he had nothing to do until he did. No chores that is.

Harry liked to read. He didn't know how to of course, but he had this one book memorized, and it was his favorite. It was Green Eggs and Ham by Dr. Seuss. He had it memorized because Aunt Petunia heard somewhere that Dr. Seuss books improved young children's brains and read it out loud to Dudley every day.

Dudley didn't care for the book at all. In fact, he usually wasn't there when Aunt Petunia read it to him. He would wriggle out of her arms, scamper down the hallway, and play on the computer until she was done. Harry would listen behind the couch, and in that way, he had it memorized by the time he was three.

Harry read the book six times out loud. He didn't really read it out loud though, because Uncle Vernon would get mad if he did. So, he read it very quietly.

Halfway through the seventh time, Uncle Vernon yelled at him. Harry jumped, scared that Uncle Vernon would take the book and hide it, but he realized Uncle Vernon was looking for him, and he was safe for now.

Harry jumped from behind the couch and came respectfully to Uncle Vernon.

"I'm hungry, I want my breakfast NOW!" Uncle Vernon screamed.

Harry ran over to grab a pancake from the platter, but Uncle Vernon stopped him, saying

"I'm tired of pancakes, make me a fried egg."

Harry looked at Uncle Vernon, surprised.

"But, I don't know how to make one!" He protested.

"Well, you have to learn some time. You just crack an egg into the frying pan and wait until it cooks. Then you put it on a plate. Very simple, so START COOKING!"

Of course, Uncle Vernon had never been successful in making a fried egg himself, but he expected Harry would learn soon. Harry was not nervous. He expected he would learn soon too. Of course, he would probably get burned before he knew quite how to do it, but he kept a bag full of ice in the freezer for whenever he got burned. He would just stick his hand in the ice for the rest of the day.

Harry carefully got the eggs from the fridge and turned the burner on. He cracked an egg into the pan and watched it turn white. He was not sure how it was supposed to look like when it was done, so he cooked it until he could see brown on the other side. He grabbed his pancake spatula and tried to scoop it off the pan.

The fried egg would not scoop off the pan. It was stuck hard, and no matter how hard Harry pushed, it would not come off. He jammed the spatula under the egg and it finally gave way. Harry pulled the spatula up, meaning to flip the egg onto the plate, but he accidentally pulled the entire frying pan with him. It flew across the room and smashed into the refrigerator, leaving a black mark.

It clattered to a stop, and when Harry looked, he realized with dismay that it had still not come off the pan.

"POTTER!" Uncle Vernon yelled, "WHAT DID I JUST HEAR?"

"Nothing, I just accidentally flung the frying pan into the fridge. I was trying to get the egg off it."

Uncle Vernon stormed into the kitchen and bellowed "WELL OF COURSE YOU CAN'T GET THE EGG OFF WHEN YOU HAVEN'T PUT ANY OIL IN THE PAN!"

Harry mumbled his apologies, and leaned down to grab the pan. Of course, it was still hot, and he burned his hand. Uncle Vernon walked out, and Harry grabbed his ice bag and a pot holder.

He scrubbed the pan clean, and set everything up for another go. He poured oil into the pan and added an egg. The egg grew white and started to bubble. Then Harry got hit in the forehead with a drop of hot oil. "OW!" he yelled, and stepped back. Oil was bubbling all over the place. The frying pan sounded like a bowl of rice crispies. Harry wasn't sure what to do. He finally grabbed the spatula and flipped the egg onto the plate.

"YES!" Harry thought, moving the hot pan to another burner. "I got it!" Then he noticed the yellow stuff oozing out from under the egg. He flipped the egg over and realized that he had popped the yellow ball in the middle and all the yellow stuff had oozed out. He knew Uncle Vernon would not settle with this, so he made everything ready for another try.

Harry cracked the egg onto the pan and backed away. He watched calmly as grease spattered onto the curtains and all over the oven, then grabbed the spatula and flipped the egg over to cook on the other side. After all, it would pop if it wasn't cooked on the other side.

Harry cooked it until he thought it was good enough, then flipped the crispy piece of rubber onto the plate. He served it carefully to Uncle Vernon, but was greeted by loud complaints of chewy eggs and demands to make another.

Harry sadly shuffled back to the kitchen and began his fourth egg. Right from the start, he knew this was going to be a success. When he placed it neatly onto the plate, careful not to break the yolk, he was so proud he thought he could burst.

It was the perfect egg. It smelled wonderful and looked perfect, so Harry knew it was the perfect egg. In fact, it reminded him of….

Harry ran to get his favorite book. Sure enough, it compared with the green eggs in the pictures. Harry giggled, then, as he brought the egg to Uncle Vernon, he started to think of how funny it would be if the egg was actually green instead of yellow and white. He was so busy thinking of how funny it would be, he didn't notice what color it was when he set it down in front of Uncle Vernon.

Uncle Vernon exploded. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING SERVING ME GREEN EGGS? ARE YOU TRYING TO POISION ME? HOW DID YOU GET THESE EGGS TO TURN GREEN, NO, YOU'RE NOT GOING TO GO WITH US AFTER ALL, YOU'RE STAYING HERE WITH MRS. FIGG!" Uncle Vernon was so red in the face when he finished, it looked like Christmas when you compared it with the green egg.

Harry was astounded at the green egg. He was also immensely pleased with his accomplishment, he never thought he could do that. Uncle Vernon was not so happy, obviously. How DID Harry manage to do that anyway?

Well, he wasn't bothered with the fact that he was staying with Mrs. Figg. Uncle Vernon had already made a decision, but when he punished Harry by making him do something he didn't like, he didn't consider that he was already going to make Harry do that whether Harry liked it or not.

Anyways, he could tell Mrs. Figg his new green eggs and ham story instead of her telling him stories about his cats. This was turning out to be a good day after all.