the smell of pancakes and coffee

I enticed my nephew, Malcolm, to spend the night with the prospect of pancakes in the morning. He was so into the idea of a sleepover until the reality set in that his mama and sister were not going to be here.

So pancakes it was. And coffee for me. The smell reminds me of being a kid and the taste leads me to think about being an adult and parent. I remember eating pancake after pancake, and always ordering the big pancake breakfast (whenever we where in the States). Meanwhile my parents were always drinking coffee.

Now, I'm not as interested in pancakes, but coffee... that's a different story. I thought it was the caffeine, but I don't usually have it (because of nursing and because I don't want to get hooked). It's the smell I rely on. The smell does something to me. It triggers the day, it helps me take on my "responsible" self with grace (usually).

The children are running through the sprinkler and racing into the pool, while I sit with Nigel. Soon, I'll be sitting alone, while he joins them in play. And I'll have my coffee. It's my "grown-up" way.