Metadata: f/4.5, 1/30 sec, ISO 800
When I was a kid, my dad made pancakes for us *every* Saturday. This may not even be true (it may have been Sundays, or summer mornings, or something), but what I remember are those weekend breakfast delights. The break from cereal (or Twinkies, if Uncle Greg was in charge), and the LOADS of syrup I was allowed to dump on them.
There are a number of things I wouldn't repeat from my childhood. But when I cut my boys' pancakes on Saturday mornings, my heart swells with memories of spending weekends home with my Dad. We may have been bored, wild, whiney, and [arguably] obnoxious... but those pancakes still make me feel steady in an ever-changing world.
No comments:
Post a Comment