I made pancakes for the first time ever this morning. Stacy, still recovering from the cold that has knocked us all on our asses the past two weeks, slept in while I got up with Gavin (who doesn't believe in sleeping in). Full disclosure: this does not usually happen. Stacy is usually the go-to parent in the morning because Mama D can sleep through almost anything through sheer force of will if I know that Gavin's health and safety are not threatened (i.e. if I know that Stacy is awake and on it). But because Stacy coughed much of the night away last night, I knew (from personal experience, albeit, second hand) that she hadn't gotten much sleep. And so it was that I found myself awake and asking a handsome boy with messy blonde curls what he wanted for breakfast. And he said, "Pancakes." Now, he has made this request before and I have always said, "I'm not making pancakes" because we either didn't have time or because, well, I had never made pancakes before and it seemed like an awful lot of work (if you're wondering how someone can make it 34 years without ever making pancakes I say
worry about your own life for once, okay? Also see the previous reference to "an awful lot of work"). Stacy makes us pancakes pretty frequently, actually, on Saturday or Sunday mornings. And, well, they're not always very good. She has been experimenting with different recipes trying to find the best vegan pancakes (solely for my sake, because she wouldn't need to make them vegan if she and Gavin were the only ones eating them and this is but one of the many things I love about her). What I've learned about myself and pancakes: I don't like buckwheat pancakes. I don't like bananas in my pancakes. I don't like thick pancakes. I don't like burned pancakes. So when Gavin asked for pancakes this morning, my first instinct was to say, "How about cereal or toast?" But then I thought, "Hey, why not fucking
try to make pancakes for your fucking kid? Would it fucking kill you? (I'm not a morning person, really). And so I said, "Sure" and got out my copy of
Vegan Brunch and Gavin and I whipped up some pretty damn good pancakes if I do say so myself. Though glancing at the
recipe now, I think we may have used a tablespoon of cinnamon instead of a teaspoon and I know we did not use vanilla extract. But it was before 7 a.m. and I was tired, plus my assistant was illiterate had to stand on a chair to reach the counter. Still, they were good, damn it, and mostly not burned. So I got to spend quality measuring and pouring and mixing time with my son this morning and Stacy got to sleep in and wake up to breakfast already made (points deposited in the Being Married To You Is Not A Miserable Experience Bank). A win-win-win.
Our street had a block party today and Gavin got to ride his bike in the street for the first time ever. He
loved this, as did many of the other kids. I explained to him that today was the only day riding his bike in the street was okay because the street was blocked off. I don't want him getting any ideas and cruising down 8 Mile, even though I know he would wear his helmet. He is very safety conscious. He was concerned that not all of the kids in the bike parade, which kicked off the block party, were wearing helmets. That's a tricky thing to explain to kids -- when something they have been taught to do for safety, and indeed must do per parental demand, isn't something other kids have to do. The worst is when Gavin calls attention to this within earshot of the other parents because I can't be all, "Well, that boy is climbing up the slide after I told you not to do that very same thing because that kid's mom doesn't care if he gets kicked in the face." Wearing a helmet, however, is something so ingrained that whenever he sees a bicyclist or a motor cyclist he always remarks upon whether or not they are wearing a helmet. Michigan's brilliant repeal of the helmet law has only made this issue more confusing for Gavin (he follows state politics pretty closely). So Gavin's attitude toward the helmetless bike paraders wasn't, "How come I have to wear a helmet and they don't?" It was more, "Why on earth are they
not wearing helmets?" But once the parade had started he forgot all about the potential for closed head injuries among the neighborhood kids and focused instead on riding as fast as he could down the street with his biker gang.
Gavin also loved jumping in the Spiderman bounce house set up on the Pool family's front lawn, which I think all of the kids agree should be a permanent staple. Especially Jim, a.k.a. Mr. Jim, a.k.a. Mr. Pool (psst: he's really a grown up). And he got to do a little sidewalk bowling, which I was absent for, but from this picture Jim took, it looks like my boy is a natural.
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