Hello to all and happy Easter, passover, or any of the many celebrational holidays that accrue around this time of year. :)
My husband and I started our morning like most parents with children do on Easter morning. We had the Easter Bunny visit. This ten foot tall bunny comes only once a year (thank goodness), and in his wake he leaves enough candy and chocolate to get us through to well passed Halloween. This fuzzy bunny hides the candy in three rooms at all different levels because our children range from 13 to 5. When the storm of "LOOK THERE'S ONE!" is over, my husband and I are left with sugar high children and candy so well hidden that we find it sometimes melted from the summer heat.
We follow this tradition with a nice big breakfast. Breakfast is a favorite in my home. On any given Sunday we might have bacon, eggs, pancakes, and/or homemade waffles. The smell engulfs the house well into Monday and beckons visitors to venture into the kitchen and ask, "Wow, whatcha cooking?" Unfortunately, that was not going to be the case this morning. Mark (my husband) decided to bake the bacon instead of standing over it and being splattered with hot grease. This seemed to be a wonderful idea since we don't have a large kitchen and I was making waffles. So armed with my rotating waffle maker and all the ingredients to make them, I set off to please my children and my husband. I mixed poured and.... "Where's all that smoke coming from?" I asked Mark in alarm.
"Oh, there's a couple french fries on the bottom of the oven." he told me nonchalantly while opening the oven to inspect and letting a 'poof' of gray smoke escape into the kitchen.
I shook my head when he turned and smiled at me. We all know that I'm the terrible cook in the house and even though he might have smoke coming from his oven, whatever he's cooking in there, will still taste wonderful.
So, back to my waffles. La la la, I sang with my music in the background. Out came the first, in went the batter for the next. Out it came, in it went. It was around the third I noticed something seemed a little off. Why do they look spongy? Why are they so dark? I shrugged my shoulders and set our table while Mark poured OJ. I've cooked these numerous times and they always came out great so what was I fretting about?
Everyone sat down to eat bacon and waffles. From the kitchen I could hear low murmurers while I attempted to dislodge my last waffle that seamed stuck on stay put. In frustration, I threw my hands in the air and joined my family that became somewhat quiet. I eyed them knowing they were keeping something from me.
"So," I said and bit into my first taste of butter syrup soaked waffle. I then spit it out into my napkin. "Oh." I choked out. Our daughter gave me a weary smile. Our oldest son told me they didn't want to hurt my feelings and our youngest proclaimed, "YUK! TIS DESSCUSTING!"
Now Mark, who's smoking bacon came out wonderful, looked into my eyes with understanding, love, and devotion. Or, was it the knowledge that he and his children just escaped being poisoned by me? Not sure, there. Any-who, he offered to make him and I some eggs while the kids scraped their plates into the trash and reached for cereal to have with their bacon.
Ok, so Easter morning breakfast may have been a bust. But the lesson we learned from this is while laughing at these little mishaps life throws at us, makes us closer. Never, and I mean never, mistake the ingredient baking soda for baking powder! YUK!!!!!