feetlebaum, on a Sunday morning, many years ago, and in our first months together, DH made a badly thought-out remark about the consistency of his fried egg, which I'd served to him in bed. I was a strong lass in those days (still am) and so I turned him over and shoved the offending egg where the sun didn't shine - crispy edges and all! I'm better at frying eggs these days, although oddly enough DH (yes, we are still together) still prefers to cook his own for some reason 
