Memory Lane...Pancakes with Dad

I am going to take a stroll down Memory Lane with my dear friend and fellow blogger Kay today...

Family has been on my mind. Kay's dad underwent major heart surgery this week, and praise God it was a successful operation. Little Miss Can't be Wrong blogged about family this week, and I've been thinking about our upcoming move. We'll be living within minutes of almost all of our family for about 2 years. Could be interesting.

My father has always been "Daddy" to me, and always will be. I was "Daddy's girl" growing up. We still refer to each other as "DDD" (dear darling daddy, dear darling daughter) quite often. My parents divorced when I was in high school, and that changed our relationship pretty dramatically as well. I miss the closeness we once had, but things change. I am not a little girl anymore, I have a husband, children, and a life of my own. Dad is remarried and has two teenage sons, so between owning his business, spending time with his wife, and going to football practices, band concerts, and other activities with the boys he stays pretty darn busy. We don't talk that often. Sometimes it is too easy to get caught up in all we have to do. Sometimes I think we just don't try.

So back to the subject at hand...one of my favorite memories while growing up was breakfast with Dad. During the busy school/work week, we typically had quick, simple breakfasts. Toast, cereal, and that sort of thing was our normal routine. The weekend was different though! Some Saturdays I would go to work with Dad. He kept the shop open during the summer season for a few hours on Saturday morning. We would leave early and go to a little place called the Peach Blossom and I would get pancakes. Sunday mornings were even better though! Dad would make pancakes or french toast on our electric skillet. While cooking he would watch (or more listen too) what I thought was the most awful Southern Gospel singing on television. Our electric skillet had a broken leg, and you had to be careful not to bump it or the pancakes would be a mess. I remember asking why we didn't just get a new one, and Dad would always respond "Why? This one cooks just fine."

That first Sunday morning after the divorce was final was awful. I was the only one up, and was going to be driving myself to church. No one was in the kitchen making pancakes. I ate a bowl of cold cereal in the quiet, and then I did something crazy. I turned on the gospel singing.

Fast forward a few years...one of our wedding gifts was a brand new electric skillet. The legs were perfect, and Dad made the comment that I could make pancakes on Sunday mornings. I tried it. My pancakes sucked. I mean really bad. I didn't know you could ruin pancakes like that. The electric skillet ended up in the back of a cabinet or a top shelf for several years.

Somehow, on either the move here to Texas or the unpacking, my skillet took a hit. One of the legs is broken. You know what? It makes PERFECT pancakes now. My kids LOVE for me to make pancakes for them. We do it fairly regularly now. Pancakes are now my special thing to make for my kids (their Daddy makes them eggs, bacon, and hash browns on the grill, but that is another story!). We celebrated Pancake Day earlier this week with pancakes for breakfast, and then pancakes, grits, and bacon for supper. It was great, I wish Dad could have been here to join us. Maybe he would have gotten a laugh out of my skillet with the broken leg.

So there is my "Memory" for this week. If you have a minute, go check out Kay's interesting story of facing mortality and what happens when you try to drag race your husband! Ha! Share your memories too, I'd love the hear them!