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Friday, September 12, 2008

When a pancake was just a pancake

A pancake used to be just a pancake. Light and fluffy with delicious syrup running down the side forming a pool onto the plate. Sometimes they were perfectly round, other times their edges would be folded, thanks to the anxiousness of flipping them over before they were ready. But a pancake, was still just a pancake.
Occasionally a pancake became a little more. Sometimes filled with Blueberries, sometimes made into silly shapes, mickey mouse ears, hearts, and for the few lucky kids, in the shape of the hungry hungry caterpillar. But whatever shape, form, or taste they came in, a pancake was still just a pancake
Then comes the day that a young wife makes pancakes for her new husband. A skill that she has taken for granted until this very moment when the only man in the world that she hopes to impress, patiently waits at the kitchen table, watching her every move. She follows the directions perfectly, although they are as simple as adding water. She mixes the batter until it smoothly flows out of the bowl and onto to skillet. The batter immediately begins to bubble, signaling that it will soon need turned over. The young wife gets lost in conversation with her new husband as the pancake screams for attention. It isn’t until she notices the expression on her husband’s face, that she realizes her pancakes have burnt. A pancake has now become a disappointment.
Then of course comes the time when a new husband decides that he must make his young wife suffer for this accident for the rest of their lives. He carefully forms a plan and vowes to follow it every weekend for the rest of their lives. Saturday comes and when he finally gets out of bed, he immediately asks his wife, "where are my pancakes". She bursts into tears, and a pancake has now become a lifelong joke.
Finally, after many weekends of avoiding the topic of pancakes, their infant daughter refuses to eat her cereal. Not knowing what else to feed her, the young mother quickly whips up a batch of pancakes, assured that her husband will continue sleeping through the morning. They are golden, light, and fluffy as she lays them onto the pink princess plate. She cuts them into tiny pieces before drizzling a light layer of syrup over top. As her daughters small fingers grasp her first piece of pancake, the mother grins from ear to ear. As the pancake makes it’s way into the little girls mouth, her mother dreams of the shapes she will make them into, as in the distance she hears the familiar voice calling out, "where are my pancakes?" A pancake has now become a reason to smile!

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