On Wednesday, he had volunteered to be the breakfast chef for Thursday morning. “I make killer banana pancakes.”
…so very early, here he came down the stairs. “Ready to cook breakfast, Granny?”
“Not quite, Nate. It’s pretty early and no one else is up yet.”
Soon they were though, and the kitchen was roaring. Gentry cooked a pound of bacon, Brady stirred up the hot chocolate, Cole got out the napkins and the silverware. Nate warmed Mrs. Butterworth and flipped the pancakes.
I’ve never known of anyone on either my side or Jerry’s side of the family who was in the food or restaurant business, but something must have occurred when Jerry’s genes mixed with mine, (and then with Rummel’s and Cowen’s) for all of these youngsters, on arriving here for a visit, surge into the kitchen, and start rattling pots and pans. They’re pretty good about cleaning up, too, especially with the mopping. Our kitchen got mopped three times yesterday–not including this little job here.
The weather has changed drastically here since Monday when it was almost hot. The youngsters played outside awhile, then thick fog moved in and it started raining. There was a mad scramble to get the wagon and shoes and socks gathered up. Now everyone was back inside…playing games…or trying to.