I was cleaning the kitchen Sunday night around 8:30 and asked my oldest what he wanted for breakfast in the morning.
I’ve found that this particular conversation goes a little more smoothly when he’s awake than when he’s not. And by “smoothly” I mean I don’t get my head bitten off.
He takes after his mother.
Morning is not his friend.
He suggested that pancakes might be a good option and I was happy about that because I had a pack of frozen Eggo minis so I thought we were good to go. “Not those. The real kind.”
Panic might have set in. I’m not the breakfast person around here because I can’t be trusted to operate any heavy machinery or sharp objects without at least two cups of coffee under my belt. Craig typically handles meal prep while I get the non-communicative tasks of the morning routine like flipping on light switches and shaking kids awake but he was out of town so it was all going to be on me.
“We can do this!” I cried.
And went to the pantry to look for Bisquick. And we were out.
No problem, I know where Google is. I typed in “overnight pancake recipe” and found one that looked tasty and went to the fridge for the first ingredient (buttermilk) and saw that we were out. No problem, I googled “how to make your own buttermilk” and then went to grab the two cups of milk I would need.
And we were out.
So I went to the grocery store for buttermilk and regular milk
and why didn’t I just grab a box of Bisquick???? and got back home and proceeded to make my recipe. I was doing fine until I got to the fourth ingredient, baking powder.
And we were out.
The Google tab was still open so I typed in “substitute for baking powder” and discovered you can make your own baking powder with 2 parts cream of tartar and 1 part baking soda. I always have cream of tartar
because you never know when the mood to make Snickerdoodles will strike so I made a batch of alternative baking powder and proceeded with the recipe and was feeling pretty sporty about my ingenuity. I put everything in the fridge, cleaned up the mess, and went to turn out the lights to go to bed.
And then I thought I should probably take two minutes and set the table for the morning so it would be one less thing I had to do. I put out the plates and silverware and went to grab the peanut butter (if you don’t eat peanut butter on your pancakes, we can’t be friends) and searched the pantry for the syrup, but guess what?
We were out.
It was at this point that sacrificing a chicken to appease the angry kitchen gods started to look like a good option but I went back to the computer to find out “how to make your own pancake syrup” and at 10:00 at night I was standing over the cooktop stirring sugar at a full rolling boil for two minutes and adding vanilla and four-year old maple flavoring from a previous ill-fated attempt at fudge.
And then the kids woke up Monday morning and said they wanted eggs.
Have a nice day.