The other morning, I was craving thick buttermilk pancakes with maple syrup.
Thought about going to breakfast somewhere, but after working a long graveyard shift with loud music
and hundreds of tourists, I decided to stop by the store and buy a box of Hungry Jack pancake mix, maple syrup, and milk.
A quiet pancake breakfast at home.
Light and fluffy, just add water. My kind of cooking.
The Three Stooges, Jake, Mr.C., and Micky came out of nowhere, sleepy eyed and disheveled,
they plopped down in front the stove.
Don't know where the rest of the clan was.
"I'm making pancakes for ME. I'm not making cat food, understand?"
Micky and Mr.C yawned. Jake choked with excitement, and started purring.
He starts purring whatever I say, especially in the kitchen.
I accidentally dripped a little batter on Jake's head because he was practically on the counter.
He licked his mouth over and over as if trying to reach the drop.
One pancake done, then another, then another.
My batch made about 6 medium size pancakes.
I put butter on the stack, maple syrup, poured a glass of milk and sat at the table.
I felt like my cats bought show tickets to watch me - there they were, all side by side,
sitting next to my chair, now fully awake, ready to watch my exciting life.
Took one bite, and all three started fighting.
"HEY! What the heck are you guys doing? Stop it!"
Took another bite, and they start fighting again, clawing each other and hissing.
"I'm eating PANCAKES guys, not Caviar, not Filet Mignon, PANCAKES!"
Took another bite, this time my heart beating faster from their spat,
and again, they go at it.
"That's it, go lay down!" I clapped my hands while choking, spilling my glass of milk all over the table and floor.
They all slurped up the milk.
"I can't believe this." I mumbled.
So I grabbed a paper plate, cut up two pancakes and put it on the
floor next to my chair, then poured the rest of the milk in their dish.
"Here, this is what I'm eating, Happy Now? Enjoy!"
My intention was for them to sniff and walk away, which worked for Mr.C and Micky,
both looked like they couldn't understand how I was eating such a sticky thing...but not Jake.
He gulped down the pancakes with syrup and drank up the milk.
He then walked away and started washing his face, content as could be.
The rest of my audience emerged. April, Midnight, and Pierre peeked from upstairs,
obviously jarred awake by all the fuss in the kitchen, watching the tail end of my show.
So much for my quiet pancake breakfast at home.
