Waffle-ing

When I was a kid, the only time I ever saw my dad in the kitchen doing anything other than eating was on Sunday morning. My parents are very traditional-- dad makes the money and does the "man" things, mom takes care of the house and kids and does the "woman" things. I actually really love both of them for raising us like that and think the world could use a little more traditional-- not too much, though. I really like it when Jared does dishes and helps out with the kids!

Anyway, Sunday mornings were the exception. Dad would whip up the most amazing homemade waffles. Not Bisquick, my friends. Waffles from scratch-- eggs and milk and flour, he even whipped the egg whites so they were fluffy before carefully folding them into the batter. Topped with scrambled eggs and homemade maple syrup, they were heaven! One of my favorite memories from childhood is walking up the stairs in the morning to the scent of waffles cooking. Of course, most of my childhood memories revolve around food, which may be why I have some food issues, wear size 12 jeans, associate brownies with love, crave carbs when I'm stressed,... well, that's a whole different post.

This is a tradition that I wanted to carry on in my family (not the food issues, the Sunday waffles!). When there were only three of us it was kind of anti-climatic because Jared doesn't really like waffles and Sunshine didn't really care. But two years ago we had three foster kids come to stay with us and they loved waffles, so I bribed them to be good in church with waffles! Everyone who was good got waffles when we got home. And since then I have continued on with waffle Sundays.

Two Sundays ago, after eating one waffle, Superman says to me, "I need something healthy to eat. Do we have any salad?"

I was stunned into silence! I'm sure my mouth was hanging open in disbelief. Sunshine follows him up with, "Ya, salad sounds good. We should eat salad instead of waffles. We could have Sunday salads."

I couldn't speak through the tears. Who are these kids? Sunshine is genetically mine, but obviously her father's genes are stronger. We used to bribe Superman to eat vegetables-- any vegetables-- with dessert. As in, "you can have a brownie for each bite you take"! That day he ate two bowls of salad and then asked for some carrots. T-bug and little Lou did their part, but I had a lot of leftover waffles.

Since then we have had salad on Sunday. It breaks my heart a little bit every week.