Pancake Tuesday is probably my favourite holiday.
It has many happy memories of me and my mom sprinkling sugar onto the pancakes as they come out of the pan and eating them with our hands.
So, all day, as I still tried to shake off my bad day yesterday, the only thing that kept me going was pancakes.
And then there was a delay on the bus getting home so I got off to walk.
And then I took a wrong turn and had to backtrack a couple of blocks.
And then I really had to pee so I stopped at a coffee shop.
And before I knew it I was over half an hour late getting home.
The whole walk home, I was imagining Phil getting frustrated that I was late (we had a food event to get to) and was having an imaginary fight with him about how he had no right to be mad at me because it wasn’t my fault.
So by the time I walked in, I was all worked and expecting the worst.
And what I got was exactly the opposite.
Phil was waiting for me, alright, and as soon as I got in the door, he hopped up and started making me pancakes.
I was so relieved that I made him turn away from the stove to hug me as I cried.