Magan had a picture appointment one afternoon recently, and brought the boys to me at work. So I was going to get a night out with the boys, and thought I would treat them to their favorite…Cracker Barrel Pancakes. But then I remembered that that was on 280 away from the house and would bring more traffic trouble on the return home. So I asked the boys if they wanted to try a new Pancake Place. After both boys said “YEAH”, I drove towards the IHOP. We entered IHOP at 4:30 PM and apparently are the only ones that eat this fine international cuisine around that hour.
Once we received our order containing three pancakes for the boys to share, I showed the boys what might later be referred to as “the culprit”, the tray of syrups. After a quick taste test, both Sam and Davis settled onto a mixture of half strawberry, half maple syrup not mixing but looking like a sweet tasting ying yang. Dipping into one side then the other, Sam and Davis easily put down one pancake apiece, which was fine because I only wanted one for my sweet tooth.
Pushing away from the table, and suddenly becoming irritable, I knew Davis was done…but not Sam. “More Dad” he requested, so more I gave. After about three quarters down his belly, he finally was finished. When he smiled at me, I never realized that I might not see that smile again until much later that evening.
We first stopped at the library, which many people call Books-a-Million, to play with Thomas the train and friends. After a while, we went towards home and took a stop at the park. It was here as the hot sun burned down upon our pancake filled bellies, that Sam first mentioned this might not be a good idea, “I’m ready to go home Dad”. I told him he could just sit with me and let Davis play.
Letting the boys both out, I looked out to see several families playing on the playground, a family enjoying a picnic under the shaded pavilion. Then hearing a spiting sound, I turned to see Sam start projecting the pancakes along the sidewalk. Picking him up and dragging him back to the van, we left traces of his supper like oil stains from a car that was leaking oil.
After round one, Sam looked up at me and said “I think I have to do that two more times”, then round two. During the initial phase of round two, I had begun putting Davis in his car seat and buckling up. Sam, never shedding a tear, finished round 3 and said “I’m ready to go home Dad”. Picking him up I put him in his seat, then got in the van to leave.
A beautiful day, I looked out onto a near empty play-ground, gazed across an empty pavilion with half-eaten food laid across two now-empty tables, and chuckled a little. Apparently they did not like Sam’s pancakes as much as he did.
Once we received our order containing three pancakes for the boys to share, I showed the boys what might later be referred to as “the culprit”, the tray of syrups. After a quick taste test, both Sam and Davis settled onto a mixture of half strawberry, half maple syrup not mixing but looking like a sweet tasting ying yang. Dipping into one side then the other, Sam and Davis easily put down one pancake apiece, which was fine because I only wanted one for my sweet tooth.
Pushing away from the table, and suddenly becoming irritable, I knew Davis was done…but not Sam. “More Dad” he requested, so more I gave. After about three quarters down his belly, he finally was finished. When he smiled at me, I never realized that I might not see that smile again until much later that evening.
We first stopped at the library, which many people call Books-a-Million, to play with Thomas the train and friends. After a while, we went towards home and took a stop at the park. It was here as the hot sun burned down upon our pancake filled bellies, that Sam first mentioned this might not be a good idea, “I’m ready to go home Dad”. I told him he could just sit with me and let Davis play.
Letting the boys both out, I looked out to see several families playing on the playground, a family enjoying a picnic under the shaded pavilion. Then hearing a spiting sound, I turned to see Sam start projecting the pancakes along the sidewalk. Picking him up and dragging him back to the van, we left traces of his supper like oil stains from a car that was leaking oil.
After round one, Sam looked up at me and said “I think I have to do that two more times”, then round two. During the initial phase of round two, I had begun putting Davis in his car seat and buckling up. Sam, never shedding a tear, finished round 3 and said “I’m ready to go home Dad”. Picking him up I put him in his seat, then got in the van to leave.
A beautiful day, I looked out onto a near empty play-ground, gazed across an empty pavilion with half-eaten food laid across two now-empty tables, and chuckled a little. Apparently they did not like Sam’s pancakes as much as he did.
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