Pancakes

I woke to the smell of butter, Burnt butter.

The hardwood floor must have been made of ice because even through my wool socks the temperature struck my feet. I caved into the floor; hoping that it would support my bones from being almost fused together during sleep. I still hadn’t had the chance to crack every bone in my body. After all, when you run for a living you don't have the perfect body, no in the morning, you have the body of a 70-year-old man with arthritis.

kept blinking to get the colors that danced in front of my eyes to go away, if it weren’t for the dizziness I would have been halfway down the hallway by now. 

21 seconds wasted.

Part of me wanted to have a mental breakdown right here right now but I got away from the idea after what my eyes witnessed. 

My toddler. Standing on the freaking kitchen island. How the heck did she even get up there? How did she get out of her crib? I swear I put her to bed last night-

“Aliana!”

Her little brown curls framed her face, as she giggled while standing on the counter staring at my rat’s nest of hair.

“Haha mommy, your hair is crazy.” 

“Aliana-yes my hair is crazy I just woke up, why aren't you in bed and how did you get up there?”

She folded her lip into a line and hid her face while she giggled. 

“I think I would be your answer to your question.” Another voice emerged from the dark.

“Well, you better answer that question," I said while crossing my arms.

My husband stood near the stove, flour splattered all over the front of his shirt. Aliana was fairly close to the edge of the counter, and nothing but the refrigerator behind her-

“Get her down from there Len.”

“Don’t worry I have an arm around her. We were making pancakes," He assured me

So that's why I smelt burnt butter. They better not have set off the smoke alarm. When it comes to noises I completely block them out when I am sleeping, but smells-- I jolt to any smell when I am asleep. I don’t know why, maybe it's just from my excessive amounts of allergies I am just so sensitive. 

The kitchen is dark as far as where they were cooking, which was a cooking hazard in itself. Maybe they wanted it to be a surprise? Still, with my motherly instincts, I prefer safety over surprises. 

I flicked the light switch on, then stared at my husband, he was a coward as the light came on. 

“It’s too early for that much light!” 

“And it is too early for accidents to happen.”

I grabbed Aliana from his other arm holding her to his waist so that he would have a free hand to make pancakes. 

“Don’t forget to make the blueberry pancakes, those are her favorite.” 

“They are already made, sitting in the microwave.” 

The living room seems most appealing after the somewhat heart attack I just had. I’ve seen many horrifying things in my life, but when it comes to Aliana I get anxious over the little things. She easily could have fallen and cracked her head open or worse. I shivered, trying to get that thought out of my head.

I sat her down with me on the couch and turned on the TV to hope to distract us both. Recently, she has been seeming to favor Phineas and Ferb as I did when I was a kid. Once the TV had switched on her eyes were practically glued to the TV, good thing she would not be flying off counters anytime soon. 

While Len was making pancakes in the kitchen I thought it would be best to catch up on some work. My laptop was at the very crevice of my backpack, undoubtedly deader than a doornail. Why didn’t I charge it? Is it a sign that I shouldn’t work? I think yes.

I slammed the laptop closed and shoved it away in a book bag out of sight, watching Aliana fascinated by the show.

It wasn’t long before Len brought in two huge stacks of pancakes, along with fresh-brewed coffee. God, I love him, he can make good food and some damn good coffee.

“Chocolate chip pancakes and a freshly brewed cup of coffee. Black.” 

“And you with your plain pancakes and tea.” I giggled 

“Yup hate chocolate and coffee.” He wrinkled his nose to mock me.

“You are so weird, but I’ll accept it since you make such good pancakes.” I shoved more pancakes into my mouth. 

Len scooped Aliana into his arms and tore up the blueberry pancakes for her to eat. In anticipation she waited for him to tear them for her to eat.  I think he may be her new favorite parent now. 

I tore off a piece from the non-chocolate side of my pancake and let Len eat it since he was busy feeding her. It was like a never-ending train of pancakes, and I wasn’t mad about it.