The holidays are always a joyous time, especially if you equate loud with joyous.
The other morning Hot Wheelz, Cheezy, and the oldest two grandkids were the pilot group (that’s what we techies call guinea pigs) for one of my new recipes for the big family breakfast — pumpkin pancakes and homemade buttermilk maple syrup. You know how food always tastes better when you don’t have to make it? Well, I guess that’s true of stolen goods also, because Cheezy told me the pilfered pumpkin had contributed to the best pancakes he’d ever tasted. When the small beta (yes, techie again) batch of dough was gone, I could tell the two small pancakes hadn’t really satisfied his appetite.
The five-year-old Worm is so wiggly she’s always the last one done eating. Both Hot Wheelz and Cheezy eyeballed her plate. A whole pancake floated in the syrup. “You want your other pancake?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said adamantly.
“Well, you better watch your plate,” I instructed, “because your uncles just might take your pancake.”
Bite by bite she never took her eyes off the plate, even to tempting suggestions like, “Grandma got you a puppy out in the backyard.”
She’s no dummy. “I know you’re just tricking me.” Her eyes were glued on her plate. When she dropped a bite, she glanced oh, so quickly down, never lowering her head below the table top sheltering her half eaten breakfast.
When she was finally done, and everyone had left the room, she came to me and tapped me on the arm. “Actually, Grandma, when they weren’t looking I sneaked a drink of milk.” She smiled real big, knowing she’d defeated both of her uncles.
Related posts:
- Progressive December
- He’s a peach
- Decorating blues
- Why mothers shouldn’t be left alone
- Tacky & sappy but merry wishes to you all
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