My children might try to tell you that I spent their winter break hiding away in a pumpkin shell.
And maybe I did and maybe I didn’t.
And maybe the impossible sheen of my bouncy tail makes the whole issue a moot point anyway.
Ahh, such fluffy finesse. It is not achieved through the wonders of coconut oil or conditioning.
Nope, it is the rejuvenating act of sticking my head inside a gourd and dimming the light switch of reality that does it for me.
It’s putting down the cell phone.
And leaving the laundry for another day.
It’s staring aimlessly out the window at the more industrious beings as they scurry to and fro striking impressive yoga poses using nothing more than a rotten pumpkin that’s been begging to be composted for months.
Oh yes, and it’s abdicating responsibility for feeding one’s family. This is done best under the guise of “helping the children gain independence in the kitchen.”
So while I curled up pumpkin-side and our rodents illustrated their dexterity, my children got busy.
They poured. They mixed,
and they made short work of my boastful popover display with their gorgeous oven-baked pancakes.
Whereas my popovers are finicky and unpredictable, this oven pancake shows up every time, delicious in all its fluffy splendor.
Here’s the recipe. Though I believe the true secret lies in the sitting back and sipping coffee while the children make breakfast (Warning: when one abdicates power in the kitchen, one’s children might locate the food coloring. Which is how one might find herself dining, ala Sam I Am, on a plate of green pancakes.)
And though you may find gangrenous pancakes unappealing, you will eat them.
You will eat them in a boat. And you will eat them with a goat.
And you will eat them in the rain. And you will eat them on a train.