Can someone give me WHOOP WHOOP!!??
Because yes, pancakes really do suck. Let me paint the picture for you, my wife and I had a new born son. We were flat broke. I worked during the day as a paid slave a.k.a. an electrical apprentice; and she worked at night as an unpaid slave a.k.a. waitress. We lived in a duplex we really couldn't afford and our cute adorable first born son didn't understand the fact that we had no money; can you believe he still expected to eat!!!??? The nerve of some peoples children.
Wait a minute... he's my child.
So in desperation we semi-reluctantly accepted a food basket from my wifes aunt. At the time we really thought she was being nice; but as they say hindsight is 20/20. I now believe she was trying to kill us. Beyond the standard mac and cheese and few other quick to disappear "meals" all that remained in a few days was a 10 lb bag of pancake mix. Yes the kind you don't even need milk and eggs to mix with. "Simply add water". Which implied that even the makers of the pancake mix knew just how poor we really were. Now that I think about it, "simply add water" was written in a font that sort of mocked you while reading it. Huh?!
Pancakes in the morning, pancakes in the evening, pancakes in my lunch box. Oh how I loved pancakes...
Yeah that feeling didn't last. Even my son's pureed squash started to look appealing after a few days. Than came the day I almost got divorced. As I was sitting there at the breakfast table preparing to leave for work, eating my pancakes; my beautiful wife pulled up into the drive way. She came into the kitchen and sat down next to me with a smile on her face. "Oh Nathan you're not going to believe it. It was so awesome, so this guy last night sent his bacon cheeseburger back and it is our policy that if something gets sent back to the grill it needs to be re-cooked completely. So I got the bacon cheeseburger. It was so good the burger was cooked perfectly with tomato and lettuce on it and I even got to eat the fries. Oh Nathan it was like heaven!!"
I, like you could hardly believe what was coming out of her mouth. After all I didn't see one of those styrofoam take-out boxes in her hand. I was also quickly losing hope that she had left it in the car. No she ate it all; and to top it off she came home and rubbed it into my pancake stuffed face!!! Oh i'll show her! Oh who was I kidding? I didn't have a leg to stand on or two pennies to rub together, so I did what anyone in my position would do, I whined. "I can't believe you wouldn't save me even a bite to share with me!"
Than came the excuses, "i'm not allowed to take food home." Yeah, just the very existence of the styrofoam doggie bag screams liar!!
Anyway, I lived through my pancake eating years; and to be totally truthful with you I didn't touch a pancake for about ten years. I am just now considering going to the local fireman's pancake breakfast on Memorial Day; which should prove that no matter what trauma you may have faced in your past, you too can recover!
PS: Just for the record the actual events in this story were slightly modified; though very slightly there may have been some exaggeration at the expense of my wife.
PPS: I put in the previous PS only for the simple fact that my wife might read this and I don't like sleeping on my couch.