"And in the mornin' I'm makin' waffles!"

This morning we had an appointment with the OB. Everything looks good. The baby and I are on track growth/weight wise. All in all, we're pretty dandy! Now, for some unknown reason, it has become tradition for us to have a big breakfast after each of my doctors appointments. Sometimes we've gone to Denny's or IHOP, but today we elected to eat at home.

I was just planning on bacon, eggs, and toast; but Patrick--not being a toast fan--mentioned that he felt like waffles. I wasn't feeling the waffle vibe as much but I said, "If you want 'em, knock yourself out." I showed him where the waffle iron was and he went to town. (A little back story here: it's been something of a running joke in our relationship that Patrick loves food and would love to cook...he just doesn't really do directions. We've had some interesting boxed meals when he gets the urge to cook. Not inedible, mind you, but interesting. So much so that my sister gave him this apron for Christmas this year.)

Just in case you can't see it clearly, it reads: "My food is problematic."

Anyway, he was really working some kitchen mojo this morning. He whipped up the batter--which did look delicious--and made sure the waffle iron was preheated. He even laid down some paper towels to catch any batter that might drip out the side. (An action which I found particularly thoughtful since I'm usually the one who cleans the kitchen.) I was focused on the bacon--one of the oven burners was acting up and I had to switch things over before I set off a smoke alarm--and it had been fairly quiet in his corner of the kitchen for a few minutes until I heard, "Ungh! The light's not coming on, but I think it might be burning!"

Me: "Well, open it up and check on it."

Patrick: naughty words

Me: "Wait! Don't move!"

Luckily I had left the camera near by so I could capture this moment:

For the record, these would have been perfectly golden brown otherwise...

Me: "Did you spray it with Pam first?"

Patrick: "You have to do that every time?"

Me: Trying really hard not to laugh as hard I wanted to inside...

Patrick: "Shut up... Where's a butter knife?"

The next fifteen minutes were spent with me finishing up the bacon and some scrambled eggs while trying to take surreptitious photos of Patrick painstakingly cleaning out the waffle iron.

Obviously I have a hard time being sneaky when I'm giggling...

It would seem that removing cooked on waffle batter in half inch increments totally destroyed his appetite for them. We settled for just eggs and bacon today. But, when the waffle urge strikes again, I know he'll do a marvelous job! (After all, this is not a cooking experience one is likely to forget...and if he does...I'll remind him.:D)