My kids are off from school today and although I like my
Monday mornings nice and quiet, it just wasn’t meant to be when my children
rose at exactly the same time that they do every other school day and I found
myself at the kitchen table trying to glide into the day with coffee and the
paper while two small people watched a television show about the strange wonder
of parasitic twins.
This isn’t how I wanted to spend my glorious Monday morning,
a day most often protected by my own selfish delight in having the entire house
to myself after a weekend jammed with crackling overstimulation.
I banished them to the basement so I could sip coffee and
read about busted cocaine dealers in relative quiet. At once I remembered the one thing that would
threaten to dissolve my morning cocoon: pancakes.
When my kids are home in the morning, their brains
fix upon this one treat that can’t quickly be prepared on a usual weekday
morning during the school year.
Sleepovers, summer mornings, the occasional open Saturday, days off from school: these days
almost always warrant the question: Mom,
can you make pancakes?
I tiptoed around the kitchen and stole upstairs to
accumulate and separate the dirty clothes that my family amasses at a jaw-dropping volume over the weekends. Stealthily I
loaded the washer with one load of laundry, turned it on, and sat down at my
computer, where I had also piled the morning’s work of bills, unopened mail,
and school papers that demand my attention at an alarming rate at this moment
in the school year.
Then I heard it: the thump-thumping of four feet making
their way up the stairs from the basement.
As I sat at my computer, mouse poised to click on the next email destined
for deletion, I heard from the first floor:
Mom, could you possibly make your most famous and delicious pancakes for
our breakfast this morning?
My shoulders slumped a little as my oldest child poured on
the sweetness like the syrup that I would most certainly be wiping off the
table later today. How can I resist such
a compliment from my angelic and polite child?
I sighed. My sacred Monday would
be interrupted. Of course, I replied.
Thanks Mom. You’re
the best, they both said as they skipped back to their dungeon to play demolition
derby while watching a show that most likely has something to do with ghosts,
infested homes, or Sasquatch.
I will make them pancakes this morning. As I read another email, I can hear them
coming closer. The basement door has
been opened a crack so they can hear me call them when the pancakes are
ready. They will be ready soon. Monday morning will be over soon, and with
it, my time for just me.
It’s okay. In a few
minutes I will be hearing ooohs and ahhhs, This is so goods and These are the
best pancakes ever, thanks moms. My kids
are free with compliments and mostly appreciative of the little things. Losing this Monday morning will be worth
it. I will have another Monday to
myself.
Plus, I will have a little leverage to use when I ask, later
today: Can you two clean your bathroom?
*******
Pancakes are indeed reserved for days off, weekends, or snow days. Pain in the tuchus to make...big mess to clean up...but the stuff they remember years later. My next pancake project? Lemon poppy seed.
ReplyDeleteOoooh, that sounds good! We just do add-ins: chocolate chips, peanut butter chips, bananas, blueberries, bacon. And sometimes nutella on top. And this time, I ran out of Bisquick (it really does make the best pancakes), so I had to go the from-scratch route. The kids could totally tell.
Delete