On Sundays mom and dad almost always have mom's whole wheat flax blueberry pancakes for breakfast. It's a thing, I guess, and they've had them every single Sunday morning for as long as I can remember. The big difference between them is the way they eat them. Mom likes to keep things basic, and enjoys the simple taste of plain pancakes and blueberries. No toppings, no distractions; just the simple goodness of something natural. As they should be, says she.
And then there's dad. As you may recall from his birthday post some weeks ago he received a long-desired refill on his pure maple syrup from New England. Mom and dad have never seen eye to eye on all things food, this being one of them. On their first date many moons ago mom invited dad to her house for a breakfast of French Toast, where they proceeded to eat them right out of the pan, unadorned. Of course dad wouldn't say anything what with them being a new couple and all, but he'd much preferred to have had them slathered with the sticky golden brown goodness of maple syrup (with a hearty slab of butter beneath, of course). Flash forward to the present and, well, as you can see, like I said above about how they have different preferences...
Mom's delicious pancakes as she prefers them, just as is right out of the pan...
… and then there's dad, his plate full of syrup topped with pancakes. Of course this photo doesn't really show the full amount of syrup or the depth of saturation the pancakes have suffered. Ok, I'll give him one for his fruit intake what with the nanners on top, and I guess another for keeping away from butter for years now, but the sea of syrup beneath and throughout the stack are dad's real reason for eating mom's pancakes. It's okay, dad. She knows you enjoy them. She knows you just like the syrup more. Just don't go whining to her when the gallon jug's empty.
