On pancakes

I know I suck in the kitchen, but there's one thing I absolutely rock at and that's - pancakes.

Like, if a president of something had to come for dinner sometime and I had to make something on my own, no help, nothing, and I had to know for a fact that it would taste delicious, I'd be, like, "So d'you want pancakes tonight?"

I mean, choose your style: thin crepes, thick cottage cheese blobs, sweet and oh-so-soft yoghurty goodness pancakes, I can make them all.

And they're awesome!


(Read this to a soundtrack of slurpy milk going down The Kid's t-shirt and licky sounds coming from underneath the table where The Dog is busy cleaning up bits of pancake The Kid is throwing on the floor.

PS. Godammit, he's learned that The Dog will pick up anything you give her and now no matter how tasty the food is, if The Dog's in the kitchen and I'm not looking, The Kid's throwing food onto the floor.

PPS. Repeat after me: I love my kid, I love my kid, I love my kid.

PPPS. Also, repeat after me: I love my dog, I love my dog, I love my dog.

PPPPS. Also, repeat this: I'll f*ckin' vacuum you out of the kitchen if you don't stop tempting my kid NOW and go do something else somewhere, outside preferrably. Mocha, outside, NOW!)

So, anyone hungry?

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