Well technically, they weren’t pancakes. I grew up with pancakes; the thick, fluffy and delicious ones my mother used to make on most Sunday mornings. These were my husband’s family version; the crepes.
The morning started out fine. My husband had to leave early for a business meeting and I was going to get the kids ready for school. I woke up on time, got them dressed on time, we were having breakfast and running along smoothly until:
“Mama, I have to make pancakes for my presentation today!” What?!
My oldest has a French oral presentation once a month in class, and he is a natural. He’s not shy or quiet spoken, so generally, practicing his little speech will get him through his presentation well. But since the beginning of school, it has just been getting more and more elaborate.
Back in my day (man, am I old) we used Bristol boards and stuck pictures to them for presentations – and we didn’t always have a visual aid. But now? Now, we have smart boards, and power points, and data sticks that kids bring to school.
I should be cheering all this technologically advanced teaching given my career path..and for the most part I do. But sometimes, in between after school activities, regular homework, dinner, and just getting through the evening, working on a speech would be sufficient. But I digress…
It was 7:20am-ish, and I had three little ones to still have finish breakfast, brush teeth, pack lunches and dress up in snow suits…and now, pancakes. I mean, crepes. This is nutrition week, and kids were bringing in food, ready to be shared with their classmates after their presentations. I found this out the night before and forgot. Is it necessary? Nah. Fun for the kids? Of course. Could I swing it? Sure, I thought, I got this.
“Ok, hun, tell me your presentation while I get out the ingredients,” and he began telling me his presentation while I cracked and egg.
“Can I crack the other egg?” we were running out of time…
“Um..sure hun, but you might get..” and the egg spattered into the bowl in a bunch of shell pieces.
“Not a problem, wash your hands and I’ll take the shell out” and as I turned to washed my hands in the sink, my son decided to pour the milk.
Too much milk.
“Oh that’s ok, hun, let’s add a bit more flour then” crap, this was not going the way it was supposed to.
“Mama, I don’t think this is like Papa’s pancakes” and in my head I was thinking, because they are NOT pancakes they are crepes…and I don’t make crepes.
“It’s ok, sweetie, you’ll see it will be fine.” We found a consistency relatively close to what my husband’s crepes look like and I poured some batter onto the non-stick pan I had on the stove.
“But Mama! We need blueberries! I can’t do my presentation about blueberry pancakes without blueberries!” ..they are CREPES!
“Honey, we don’t have blueberries, you’ll have to just say that we didn’t have any at home today” and his little face started to get flush.
I was losing control of the situation. The twins were fooling around upstairs while brushing their teeth, the clock was ticking, and with all this effort, my little guy still wasn’t happy with the outcome.
“Boys! Get downstairs and get dressed for school!” then I turned to my oldest, and knelt in front of him.
“Honey, having pancakes to give out to your friends is better than not having pancakes, so don’t worry about the blueberries. There were none in the grocery store this week, I looked” one little lie to calm him down…
I managed to salvage half of a crepe and cut it up into small enough pieces to not show the burnt part that had stuck to the non-stick pan. Stuck them in a container, with a container of maple syrup, a fork, and we were off.
Lord knows if that lousy crepe I made will taste anything like my husband version.
On his way in I said to him “If your friends don’t like the pancake you can tell them Mama made them instead of Papa” and he smiled.
The funniest thing in all of this is that I absolutely cannot eat those crepes my husband makes. When my son chose it as his ‘favourite recipe presentation’ my husband and I laughed, because it is literally the only thing my husband makes to eat in our home. The kids love them and I hate them!
Of course, I already called my husband to thank him for missing this morning’s mayhem.
So today will be a ‘many-cups-of-coffee’ kind of day and I will wind down from my panic-stricken morning and hopefully my son’s presentation will go well and he will remember his speech…and not spill the maple syrup. 😉