This morning when I came in from the gym, Tommy and Eli were discussing pancakes. Tommy wanted them; Eli did not want to make them (or, more accurately, did not want to commit me to making them). Tommy wanted pancakes so badly that he was moved to tears, but I refused to make them. We didn't have time, I said, they make too many dirty dishes.
In a flash of genius parenting, I said I'd give him toast with peanut butter and syrup (his favorite pancake topping combination), and he agreed. (And gobbled up the entire piece of toast which was his second breakfast.)
Then, I arrived at work and my coworker asked if I was doing pancakes tonight. I looked at him like he was nuts, and he said, "you know, Pancake Day? Shrove Tuesday?" and it turns out that this is the day before Lent and the day before Lent in the UK, you eat pancakes.
Poor Tommy who totally knew what he was talking about when his parents thought he was going nuts.
If you have a toaster, might a suggest the genius move of making extra pancakes, cooling them on a rack (so they are reasonable dry), and then freezing them in ziplock bags? Instant toaster pancakes whenever your child takes a hankering. Margaret when through a "cold pancake!" phase where she ate them frozen. Disgusting, but oh so convenient...
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