I hope everyone had a safe and enjoyable Memorial Day weekend. Mine consisted mostly of work, including Sunday and Monday evening shifts.
That in mind, my kiddos spent Sunday afternoon and evening with my parents, staying overnight. My niece joined them, turning their stay at Nana and Pa-Pa’s into a slumber party. I eventually joined them when my shift ended, crashing on the couch while the little ones slept in the bunk beds that once belonged to my two younger sisters.
When my daughter was a toddler and she would stay with my parents, it became a ritual to make pancakes in the morning with my dad. I dubbed it “Pancakes with Pa-Pa.” She would stand on a chair by the counter and help him pour the milk into the baking mix to make the fluffy cakes.
My dad, God bless him, slept in a bit Monday morning. He’s been busy lately running errands and family to doctor appointments as well as working part-time. So no “Pancakes with Pa-Pa” this day.
Someone mentioned making pancakes — I’m not sure if it was my youngest sister or Amber — so I stepped up to do it. The little ones wanted to help, so together we rounded up the baking mix, milk and one egg required for the pancake mix.
We made it a group effort. I measured the baking mix and Jacob poured it into the mixing bowl. I then poured the milk into the measuring cup and my niece added it to the bowl. Amber, ever looking to crack eggs more neatly than the previous ones, added the egg without dropping any of the shell into the mixture.
I grabbed a whisk and briefly stirred the batter. I passed it along to each child to let him or her have a turn. The batter got nice and smooth, no lumps whatsoever.
Amber set the table and I made the pancakes. Everyone sat down and enjoyed a late-morning breakfast.
Hearing about the pancake breakfast, my sister Stephanie, when she called to check in on my niece, said, “They had cakes with Katie!” — instead of the usual “Pancakes with Pa-Pa.”
I enjoyed the pancake preparation, and wouldn’t mind doing it again. Everyone was happy to help, and no one complained or griped about their “tasks.” Even better, everyone left the table with an full belly, and what cook doesn’t want that?