Well, here we are the last day of March. (I am actually writing this Thursday night but by the time I post, it will be the last day. Just felt I needed to be transparent.)
I saw a friend at the library today and we were talking about how much we had enjoyed the sun and warmth this week, but looking at the forecast it would seem, as she pointed out, March came in and is leaving like a lion. We shall see what tomorrow brings.
Our four grands had Spring Break this week and we had some extra time with them as a result. Which is why I didn’t post my sweet story Thursday as I had promised. They had a couple of good days sandwiched in between some succumbing to this nasty virus going around.
On Tuesday, since mom and dad were working all day and everyone was feeling better (two not great, but at least not awful) at that point, I took up some pancake mix to fix for breakfast as a special treat. Only it wasn’t pancake mix. It was waffle mix.
As I expressed my disappointment, Emmett sprang into action declaring he loves waffles and this was the best news ever.
I asked where the waffle iron was, and he dragged Papi off to find it. He emerged from the appliance storage area moments later toting not one but two waffle irons. One was a mini model about the size of an English Muffin and one was the kind you see at the breakfast buffet at Hampton Inns and other hotels.
Yes. The kind that flips while cooking and then you flip back over.
I was taking all of this gadgetry in and reaching for a bowl when my sous chef pulled up a stool and excitedly told me he would be helping.
Let me back track here.
I got up at 5:30 on Tuesday morning to get myself dressed, Bible’d and prayed up and gathering all the various tool box goodies to pack into the car to entertain the troops. My coffee had brewed and been consumed before the drive north and I was sadly lacking in caffeine and rest at this point.
As I looked at his eager face perched inches from the spinning waffle iron contraption and the teeny tiny one that just screamed burned fingers, I swallowed back my impulse to ask him to just go sit at the table and I realized we would be running the waffle factory in tandem.
Okay, yes. I did pop a Keurig in and quickly brew another coffee as my sous chef stirred the mix and came dangerously close to the heated irons.
But we persevered and I am so thankful I didn’t shoo him away. It was a little more work to manage batter and hot waffles and preventing first degree burns on him or me, but totally worth it.
As I would pour batter and he would flip over the mondo iron or close the lid on the little one, he was so happy. I had to reach around a fast moving body maneuvering on a stool, but as I watched him beaming as he carried some more waffles over to the ones who felt like eating I realized what a treat it was to him to help.
He turned an ordinary breakfast into a best. day. ever. moment and taught his Lola another valuable lesson. It’s better to do the thing together and maybe a little messier than planned, then to do it perfectly all by yourself.
Blessings friends <3