I have a vision of this poor father getting up in the pre-dawn hours to prepare these intricately shaped pancakes for a family of children who just cover them in syrup, wolf them down and run out the door without any recognition for the effort involved.
My dad felt the same way about his famous Chuckwagon Dinner. We would always ask what was in it but all he replied was - "it's hot, it's brown and there is plenty of it". It didn't matter to him that we thanked him for making us this king of cold weather comfort food - part chili with button mushrooms, part spaghetti and meatballs, stirred together, add ketchup and spread all over toast. MMMMM dat was goooood eatin'.
No, his joy came from watching what post dinner effects would be on his children and any of the neighborhood kids that had found their way to our door. If you were able to stay awake an hour after a few plates worth of all the heavy slop, then you were unique. Then sometime in the night you would awake to quite possible the BEST poop you ever have - poops better than the ones you have out in the forest while camping.
Thanks to WildHermit who sent me this post idea. I first met him yesterday after our discussion about the failings of North Carolina. Maybe one day I will warn him when we start to bomb and pave his state into one state sized parting lot. Don't worry, we will leave them a couple of donut/gun shops.
We are not barbarians here.
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4 comments:
Fun post, Cal, altho a bit TMI about the poops.
I will listen for the falling whistle of the bombs and seek appropriate shelter.
I concur... nothing like a solid poop to set the day right.
Some of that fine maple syrup you sent me would go great on that uterus pancake, but I think I'll have the mandelbrot pancake. It should last forever.
People who make fancy pancakes have too much time on their hands. It was nice of WildHermit to help you out! Don't ever type the word "bomb" Kal. Someone will come to the door.
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