If it ain’t Jemima…

Are my kids the only ones who insist on artificial this or that?

I doubt it.

The other day we ran out of syrup. I didn’t know this until I was about to serve up some Eggos (which shall NOT be eaten without syrup unless specified in advance by young Master Hooligan). Some days it’s okay to have a waffle smeared with peanut butter or jelly or maybe both, but not this day.

Thinking quickly (ha), I offer some maple syrup. Real. Maple. Syrup. The kind that comes from (I’m guessing here) a maple.

You would think I had just poured rat poison on the plate. He wouldn’t even take a bite (it came back out, with a blecchh) and before I could say anything he had run to the sink and dumped the waffles down the disposal. Then we had a bowl of cereal.

Give me high fructose corn syrup, or give me death!

3 thoughts on “If it ain’t Jemima…

  1. dude, you *cook* the waffles? I let DreadPirate MonkeyBoy chew on them still frozen when he was teething five years ago, and now I just chunk them at him right out of the freezer.

    they think the syrup from McDonald’s in those little packs is good — I never make pancakes at home, so all they know is when Grandma goes to the Arches on Saturdays. So deprived, my poor children!

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