I’ve been longing for pancakes for a while. Usually pancakes are a take-it or leave-it deal for me. I don’t care for breakfast foods in general. (Except for those thin Finnish pancakes that you can get at that place in Thunder Bay. You know the place. Mmm.) But whether hormone driven or a longing to use some of the absurd quantity of maple syrup that we have, I have been thinking about pancakes for weeks.
It’s easy to make pancakes. But there’s a lot of standing involved. And a lot of smells of frying oil. At eight months pregnant, it doesn’t take long for the standing and the smell to make eating anything only wishful thinking. I’ve been eating a lot of salads lately because it’s fast and virtually smell-free. That doesn’t help me get pancakes, though.
I could go out and get pancakes but I’m not a fan of “table syrup” (why would anyone prefer this to maple syrup? MIL, I’m looking at you) and I’m too embarrassed to bring my own. So here I sit: pancake-less.
There are worse things, I know.