Leftover pancakes make great afterschool snacks. This morning Ivan didn’t feel like eating eggs, first time in 2 years he has declined the spinach and feta omelet that has become his staple breakfast. Good thing, too, cause I was down to one egg, and at 6′ 5″, Ivan is a three-egg-omelette kind of guy. Ok, no eggs, no problem. I reached high to the back of the top shelf of the corner cabinet and retrieved the dusty bag of Krusteaz. Crust ease. There was a time when I refused to use Krusteaz. Scratch pancakes or nothing. Then Marty came along, and even though he claims to love me he doesn’t love my pancakes. He grew up on Krusteaz and he is a man of habit. And Ivan loves Krusteaz too. I’m outnumbered. At least Ivan likes to add cinnamon and vanilla to his mix. There’s hope for him.
OK, so, pancakes for Ivan, but no syrup. I seriously need to go shopping. At least we have butter now, and good old blackberry jam never hurt anyone. Down his hatch went two fluffy pancakes topped with jam, plus a cup of berry zinger tea sweetened with honey. The third and last pancake was in the pan, the flame beneath it extinguished, as we ran out the door to catch the bus. Standing at the bus stop, Ivan said he wished he were eating that last pancake.
Now I am home and Ivan is not and I never did eat breakfast this morning, and there’s that cool, perfect, fluffy Krusteaz pancake, in my hand, and in my mouth, and in my belly.