Usually my breakfast consist of a cup of coffee, and if I'm lucky, a Kashi bar. Early this morning before sunrise Sweet Wife rose from bed and eased into the kitchen and made pancakes. I wasn't aware of her labors.
"Can't, I'm late."
Without further insistence she gathered a few and placed them on a paper plate and covered the bundle in foil. In the meantime I laced my boots. She placed the package in my bag and with a goodbye kiss I was off.
Let me tell 'ya...those pancakes smelled, well, great. I smiled all the way to work. I chanted, pancakes for breakfast, pancakes for breakfast, and they're hot.
My truck closes in on my shop and the anticipation of hot blueberry pancakes and maple syrup is about to kill me. I'm ready for a fine morning meal.
I arrive to find three trucks in my drive. Early bird customers in wait. Three.
I leave my truck with satchel, keys, and my wonderful bundle of homemade pancakes as the three men wait in line behind....I wanted to scream.
Are you aware it's awful handy to have a miniature microwave located in your office.
(Thank you, Sweetheart.)