Zach LarkinsI'LL PAY BIG TIME
Okay, this is just between you and me. If you tell my wife I've written this, I'll hunt you down like the dog you are and feed you to the Koreans. Now that we have the game rules established, let's get on with it.
"Another Saturday morning and I ain't got no money,
I didn't get paid so I won't get laid,
How I wish I had someone to help me,
I'm in an awful way."
......... with apologies to Cat Stevens
Yup, here we are on a bright and cheerful Saturday morning and what do I have to look forward to? Pancakes.
Now, if any of you read my series on the quality time I spent on my vacation, you'll recall that we received a jug of home-made maple syrup. We cracked that sucker open last week and found heaven on Earth. It's not that super, sweetly stuff that comes out of an Aunt Jemima bottle. It is a rich, distinct sauce with a hint of sweetness to it and very much mapley. It's no wonder you have to give up the rights to your firstborn to get a bottle of this stuff. Trust me, it's worth it.
So, what then is my complaint? This. I have to make the cakes. Don't get me wrong, I love cooking and pancakes will forever hold a special spot in my heart. Years ago, when the dinosaurs till roamed the world and I was in Grade 7, we switched with the girls and they did Industrial Arts while we (the boys) went to Home Ec. I suppose the teacher took one look at all of us and came up with the safe scheme of showing us something pretty simple to make that wouldn't result in the fire department having to make a visit to douse the house. So we made pancakes. I was so proud of myself that I fed the family pancakes for the next three weeks until my father cried out for eggs and toast, just once, and that ended my culinary career for a couple of years.
I really don't know how to make pancakes. I found a recipe here on the net and printed it out for future use. I'm not real clever, but I do know how to read. Does my better half? Apparently not when it comes to reading pancake recipes. She seems rather selective when it comes to that.
I don't mind actually making them. I envision a stack of 5 or 6, topped with syrup and diving into them. Do I get to do this? Not on your life. She is right beside me in the kitchen and as soon as I have one done and put it on her plate, she scarfs it down. Just keeping up with her is a job and since she's found this real maple syrup, I swear, it's like watching a Hoover at its best. I don't think she even bites or chews. Now you see it, now you don't.
So I'm left alone after she's done gorging herself to sit down and eat my breakfast alone, in a civilized manner, all by my poor, lonesome self. I know that life isn't fair, but geez Louise, sharing breakfast on a Saturday morning should be a treasure. She says she's always been like that. When her Dad made pancakes they were down her throat before he could get them to the table. I've met the man. He truly is a saint. Try cooking pancakes for a family of four and watch as three of them go hungry because your daughter beats them to the punch time and time again.
I guess for all she does for me I shouldn't complain too much. I do love her and making some cakes for her is not a big chore. But I'll be happy when that syrup is gone. Maybe I'll get to sleep in.
Gotta go now. Hafta flip a cake.
"Another Saturday morning and I ain't got no money,
I didn't get paid so I won't get laid,
How I wish I had someone to help me,
I'm in an awful way."
......... with apologies to Cat Stevens
Yup, here we are on a bright and cheerful Saturday morning and what do I have to look forward to? Pancakes.
Now, if any of you read my series on the quality time I spent on my vacation, you'll recall that we received a jug of home-made maple syrup. We cracked that sucker open last week and found heaven on Earth. It's not that super, sweetly stuff that comes out of an Aunt Jemima bottle. It is a rich, distinct sauce with a hint of sweetness to it and very much mapley. It's no wonder you have to give up the rights to your firstborn to get a bottle of this stuff. Trust me, it's worth it.
So, what then is my complaint? This. I have to make the cakes. Don't get me wrong, I love cooking and pancakes will forever hold a special spot in my heart. Years ago, when the dinosaurs till roamed the world and I was in Grade 7, we switched with the girls and they did Industrial Arts while we (the boys) went to Home Ec. I suppose the teacher took one look at all of us and came up with the safe scheme of showing us something pretty simple to make that wouldn't result in the fire department having to make a visit to douse the house. So we made pancakes. I was so proud of myself that I fed the family pancakes for the next three weeks until my father cried out for eggs and toast, just once, and that ended my culinary career for a couple of years.
I really don't know how to make pancakes. I found a recipe here on the net and printed it out for future use. I'm not real clever, but I do know how to read. Does my better half? Apparently not when it comes to reading pancake recipes. She seems rather selective when it comes to that.
I don't mind actually making them. I envision a stack of 5 or 6, topped with syrup and diving into them. Do I get to do this? Not on your life. She is right beside me in the kitchen and as soon as I have one done and put it on her plate, she scarfs it down. Just keeping up with her is a job and since she's found this real maple syrup, I swear, it's like watching a Hoover at its best. I don't think she even bites or chews. Now you see it, now you don't.
So I'm left alone after she's done gorging herself to sit down and eat my breakfast alone, in a civilized manner, all by my poor, lonesome self. I know that life isn't fair, but geez Louise, sharing breakfast on a Saturday morning should be a treasure. She says she's always been like that. When her Dad made pancakes they were down her throat before he could get them to the table. I've met the man. He truly is a saint. Try cooking pancakes for a family of four and watch as three of them go hungry because your daughter beats them to the punch time and time again.
I guess for all she does for me I shouldn't complain too much. I do love her and making some cakes for her is not a big chore. But I'll be happy when that syrup is gone. Maybe I'll get to sleep in.
Gotta go now. Hafta flip a cake.
That's the only way to eat pancakes while they are still hot, out of the pan on to your plate, or out of the frying pan into the fire 'mouth' Lmao.
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Tales From The Green Lantern
wasn't me buddy! I just got on Orble just this minute! I swear it wasn't me!
Lmfao...
And hey, there'd be some tough competition at the stove between me and YBH come pancake day!!!
I scarf too, as soon as they come off the griddle, so yeah, a lot of shoving, pushing and elbowing would take place I'm sure!
*Snicker*
But then again, being a gentleman, I would always defer to YBH at the stove on pancake day...
But God dammit, I'd better be gettin the second one then!
Laughed out loud on this on buddy...
Take care you and YBH,
Nick
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youranter
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opinionatedranter
Tales From The Green Lantern