Julian (my ten year old) made me laugh out loud tonight.
It was just me and the boys for dinner tonight so I decided to make pancakes. Pancakes are usually a daddy-food. Joal makes jumbo pancakes, to put it mildly. His pan creations are about the size of the pan and generally as thick as three or four of mine. He adds in heaps of chocolate chips--which of course, melt in the cooking process and then while they are still hot, smothers them in peanut butter and drowns them in syrup. We jokingly refer to what he makes as "man-cakes"...cause you have to be a man to eat one. (Meaning...I don't usually indulge.) They are huge and they weigh a ton--we even have to get out the big plates. It's a regular heart attack on a plate. The boys love it when Dadddy cooks.
So my small delicate perfectly golden normal pancakes aren't quite as big a hit as man-cakes...but a treat nonetheless.
So J is munching away on his less than inspiring pancake when he suddenly gets a thought he must share.
"You are an excellent chef." he says, wiping syrup from his chin. "I like your mommy-cakes."
I can deal with that.