That didn't go egg-actly to plan!

As a treat we decided to have a "full English" breakfast on Sunday. The bacon was crisping, the potato scones were absorbing all the fat in a 3 miles radius (that's a Scottish thing!), the baked beans were simmering. All we needed were the eggs. Stephen took control at this point as I "can't cook eggs" apparently. He certainly looked like he knew what he was doing. He poised, egg over the skillet, and cracked it on the side of the pan. It seemed to disintegrate in his hand and ended up with the egg all over the hob and the shell in the pan. Hmmm. Take 2. This time the egg went into the pan, but the yolk burst on impact and he ended up with bits of shell in it. By the time he dug the shell out and flipped it, it wasn't so much over easy as absolutely solid. This of course was my egg. His he managed to cook perfectly!! So, I ended up with a rubbery egg AND the joy of cleaning up the egg which had exploded all over the cooker. I'll stick to cornflakes from now on...!