Are you a breakfast person?
I have to tell you, I am not—unless I have to cure a little annoying thing that doctors refer to as a hangover. Then I am looking for every greasy thing and a bottle of Advil.
Okay, enough about my drinking issue!
My child loves waffles. I cannot stress the word LOVE enough. Anyone who knows her knows that she is one of those people who eat to survive and not a morsel more—until you put a homemade waffle in front of her. We’re not talking about the ones that you buy out of the freezer. I am not that lucky! She wants them made at home…from scratch!
I don’t know if any of you have one of those brilliant spouses that likes to give you small appliances for birthdays, Christmas, Easter, St Patty’s Day, oh and did I mention VALENTINE’S DAY? I know! I have thought about murder as well. But, when you commit a crime, they lock you up and believe it or not, you don’t get to go anywhere ever again. There are no pedicure spas and you cannot call out for pizza. So I just decided on a less violent alternative (CREDIT CARD ABUSE ~ HIS). Whenever I get upset, I buy a new Coach bag. It keeps me out of jail, and fashionable. Well, he’s the one who introduced our daughter to the waffle iron (aka Mommy’s Valentine’s Day present. Lucky me!)
So a few Sunday’s ago, I got up and there is no waffle mix in the house. (This is as close to “from scratch” as we get at our house.)
“Why didn’t you buy any waffle mix, mommy?”
I apologized. But like most six-year-olds, she is too wounded to realize that I am not as perfect as she wants me to be.
“We will have to just go get it.”
So, in cupcake pajamas and flip flops, we head out on an adventure to our local American shopping spot. If you are in the United Kingdom looking for that American spot, don’t get excited. You know it well too. It is the commissary.
Thirty minutes later, and a brief discussion with a friendly guard at the gate, we reach our destination. My child skips happily into the commissary only to discover there is
NO BELGIAN WAFFLE MIX!!!!!!!!!!!!
At this point, I start to shamelessly bribe my child. Nothing is working so we move to the alternative. You know the one: Bisquick. We take it home and it is not the same. So if you have a child who barely eats and she has one special food that she really likes what extremity would YOU go to?
You call your friend who is flying into town in a week and ask the strange question:
“Do you mind going to Safeway and getting me Belgian Waffle Mix?”
Yes, people! I called a friend and asked her to stick a box of white powdered substance into her luggage for me. Luckily, she was not cavity searched to help satisfy my child’s limited palate.
So, in honor of children with limited palates, friends who agree to put boxes of white substance in their luggage and transport them 6000 miles, and Manic Mondays, if you leave me the following message:
“I CANNOT SURVIVE WITHOUT BELGIAN WAFFLES!”
We will send the first two people who respond four boxes of Belgian Waffles Mix so that you never have to ask a friend to transport waffle mix. Ever!