So when we were making the menu for this week's dinner and Brian wrote "Waffle Night" for Friday, I thought he was joking. He wasn't: stubborn as he is, he refuses to believe that he cannot make waffles.
So Waffle and Bacon night it is. The bacon, having fried up nicely on the stove, is keeping warm in the toaster oven. The entire house smells beautifully of bacon. The waffle iron is plugged in, and he's busy doubling the recipe so that we can put leftover waffles in there. First, he forgets the milk. Luckily, it is remembered before the mix hits the waffle iron. We wait, with baited breath, for our first batch of waffles.
I am working on the menu for next week and Brian says "What are we having for dinner on Friday? I say "chili and cornbread, why?" He says, "No, how about this Friday. You know, today?"
The waffle iron has been flipped open and there's.....waffle batter. The damn thing was plugged in to heat up and it never got hot enough. The damn thing is broken.
All you can do is nod and smile. Brian took it well, with a smile and "I can't believe this s*#t." The elusive Holy Grail of Breakfast Food has passed over our home again. So what the hell to do for dinner? I know! How about BLT's? No---No L, No T. How about bacon, egg and cheese english muffins? Every egg in the fridge is in the waffle batter. So with that, dinner is at Friendly's. The kids were thrilled!
We come home, and the iron is deemed trash. Waffles have been doomed to frozen and restaurants. And to add to the misery: Joey was sitting on the couch waiting for us when we got home from our impromtu Friendly's Feast. He was not pleased--we left him with the intoxicating smell of bacon and there was none for him to scout.
I'd say better luck next time...but there will be no next time.
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