My mother is a number of things: an accurate predictor of snowfall amounts, usually the life of the party unless under the influence of Sudafed and Bloody Mary's, maddeningly opinionated about the length and color of my hair, the most fun person to go to auction with ever... you get the idea.
Turns out that we can add the title of Pancake Queen to that list too.
I mostly see pancakes as an edible sponge for maple syrup. But Mom's pancakes this morning were so delicious I ate a hideous amount of them and now, 12 hours later, I want more.
And I know that if I were to try to make them for myself right now, I would end up with small round disks, suitable more for tiling the bathroom. Might as well just drink the maple syrup out of the jug at this stage.
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