Pancakes, Anyone?

May 1, 2013

I'm the only one on the planet apparently who doesn't like pancakes.  I don't like waffles and I can't stand syrup, but mostly, I really, really, really don't like pancakes. 

The rest of the world, however, views them as comfort food, symbolic of home, love, Mom.  Idyllic family around the breakfast table kind of symbolic.  Somehow pancakes are something like the Norman Rockwell nostalgia food.  I don't get it.

When I was a kid, my mom would try every possible way to make pancakes appetizing to me.  Maple syrup?  Nope.  Berry flavored?  (Straw-, blue-, rasp-....whatever.)  Gag.  Plain butter? Mush sticking to the roof of my mouth.  Thin, thick, covered in whipped cream or powdered sugar, spread with peanut butter and rolled up?  Even covered with chocolate syrup?  There may have been melodramatics involved in my reactions to any and all of these offerings, but the response was always the same at its core:  no amount of disguise could mask the unmistakable taste and texture of the awful pancake.

You might not know it to read about my adamant response to pancakes, but in virtually all other ways in my young life I was a people-pleaser.  I wanted to make people happy and have them smile at me.  (Really, I wasn't a brat.  I was a good kid who tried almost any food my mom set down in front of me, at least once.  That was our rule.)

When I was eleven years old, my mom hit a crossroads in her life.  For her safety and well-being, she decided she needed to get herself and her kids out of our home and onto a new life.  We were without home and without most of our belongings, and the youth pastor at our church opened his door to us on that first night while mom tried to figure out what her next step should be.  I knew, as did all of my siblings, that we were to be respectful and thankful guests in his home, since Mom felt guilty about imposing herself and all five of her kids on someone else. That's a lot of baggage. We were quiet, probably a little frightened and stunned by the turn of events that led us to their doorstep to begin with, and having left our home--for good, it would turn out--late in the night, we were exhausted.  Not much talking that first night.  That would come later.

We slept in our clothes and woke up the next morning all huddled together in blanket pallets on the floor.  After all, not many people have an extra five or six beds at their disposal, so we slept together in the living room, Mom on the couch and the rest of us on the floor.  We awoke foggy and not quite remembering where we were, whether or not the events of last night had been a terrible dream.  Our youth pastor's wife, knowing everything we had gone through the previous evening, did what many folks do in those kinds of situations--she cooked comfort for us.  Breakfast was already being served up on sunshiny yellow plates at the kitchen counter as we stumbled out of the living room rubbing the sleep from our eyes.

Hopping up onto the high kitchen stools, she set a plate in front of each of us--three huge, fluffy pancakes each, laden with butter and dripping with gooey, sticky maple syrup.  Sher--the youth pastor's wife--had kind eyes and was wearing an-everything-is-going-to-be-alright smile, one that was meant to be reassuring to us.  "Your mama's still asleep; let's let her get some rest while you eat breakfast."  She noticed me picking at mine and mistook my lack of interest for depression or sadness.  "Honey, please eat up.  Everything is going to be okay, I promise."  And she looked at me with such earnestness, such a desire to make us all feel okay again, that I couldn't let her down.  I felt guilty.  Ungrateful.  And so I ate.  And she smiled.

I choked down every bite of those three over-sized pancakes.  I'm not sure how I did it, honestly.  But I was proud of myself for being the good guest, allowing our host to feel good about making us feel better, and I turned to my older brother to ask about whether or not we'd be going to school that day.  After all, our world had pretty much turned upside down.  Did normal rules apply still?  I turned back to finish off my orange juice just as Sher was coming back with a spatula stacked with three more pancakes.  "Here, Sweetie.  I knew you must have been hungry!  You ate those so quickly, I thought you might want seconds."  I tried to decline, but she insisted, thinking I was just being shy.  Just then Mom came into the kitchen, also still in her clothes from the night before, bruised face and swollen lip still evident from her struggle the night before, the cause of us leaving behind everything we knew.

"Donna, what are you eating?  You don't like pancakes!"

I saw Sher looking a bit crestfallen.  "No, no, Mom.  It's okay!  I like them now!"  Sher went to take back the three new pancakes back.

"You don't have to eat them if you don't want to.  You should have told me!  I would have made you something else, poor thing!"

I felt bad.  I didn't want her to think I didn't appreciate her feeding us all, taking care of us.  "No really!  I want them.  I'm still really hungry.  May I have them, please?"  Ignoring the look from my mother, I watched Sher load up my plate with more butter and syrup, and then I dug in.  And I ate every last bite of pancakes number four, five, and six.

Immediately after I finished, I excused myself and promptly went to the bathroom to throw up.  Thirty-five years ago, and I haven't eaten a pancake since.

That incident didn't cause my intense dislike for pancakes, but I'm pretty sure it sealed the deal. 

 

A Good Day At Work

April 23, 2013

I love it when my students do well and earn their As and Bs, but there is just nothing like the satisfaction of telling a kid who struggled and worked to bring up a well-below-the-line F to a solid mid-range D that he's passing (and will graduate if he keeps it up). I almost cried twice today telling these kids how proud I am of their turn-arounds!

Ya Think They'll Notice?

April 16, 2013

I found myself in line at Walmart yesterday behind perhaps the dumbest criminal I've personally encountered.  He was in the express lane with four items:  a very large 'assembly-required' above ground pool (not a kiddie pool, mind you-a full-sized pool), two additional jumbo outdoor waterslide contraptions, and an expensive outdoor speaker set.  When the cashier rang up the first item, the pool, it rang up $1.88.  The cashier looked a little puzzled and said, "That doesn't seem right.  I wonder if there's another barcode on the box somewhere."  She turned the box over and found another barcode, scanned it, and seemed a little more satisfied with the price--closer to the $100 mark than the price of a king-sized candy bar.  She kept going on about how strange it was that the pool had the wrong price tag on it while the customer shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.  All the while, the cashier continued to ring up the remaining three items, not paying much attention to the prices as she scanned them, engaged as she was in the conversation with the young man trying to deck out his back yard for summer fun.  She finalized the sale and gave him is total: $148 and change.  Still waiting patiently behind this guy, I thought, "Seriously? That's the grand total?  Those speakers alone seem like they'd be worth more than that."

Before the young man went to make payment, the cashier summoned over a manager, who had been hovering nearby.  She required his assistance, since the speaker set had one of those security locks wound around it, which he had to unlock.  He came over and scrutinized the receipt and informed her that the SKU on the speaker box was not represented on the receipt.  She had scanned the barcode, but that barcode did not represent the product sitting before them, since the speaker set was a $499 set (thus, the security cable).  She kept trying to explain that she had, in fact, scanned what was on the box, while the manager continued to tell her that the items and the barcodes did not match up.  After several minutes of back-and-forth, finally the customer threw his hands up in the air and said he wasn't waiting around for them to figure out their system problems.  He walked out, empty handed.

After he left, the manager explained what had really happened:  he said the guy was  known as a frequent thief, one who regularly switched barcodes and changed prices.  He said he had stood there and watched him put the $1.88 price tag on the pool while he was waiting in her line, and another tag on the speakers.  She was upset that no one had told her to watch out for the guy if he was known for this sort of habitual fraud.  The manager was just waiting to thwart him and turn him away, hopefully without incident, by refusing to sell the items at what was clearly the wrong price.  I was surprised that they didn't want to go after him, but I suppose if he didn't actually complete the purchase, he didn't commit a crime in the strictest sense of the word.  (All of this explanation happened in front of me, the next customer in line, with several side-long, almost conspiratorial glances at me, as if to include me in the incident--it was us against that customer, and we'd won.)

So, although I don't necessarily think the cashier was as quick on the uptake as she could have been, I also think that the would-be criminal was criminally stupid.  If you're going to switch price tags--which I'm not in any way advocating, mind you--why on earth would you switch the price tag with an absolutely implausible one?  Wouldn't you think you'd want to put a tag on it that wouldn't arouse suspicion by any reasonable and half-way intelligent person?  Also, if you're going to try to get away with something like that, why would you choose an item which REQUIRES a manager to come over and remove a security tag?  There was nothing low-profile about the moves he was trying to pull.  Some might say audacious; I would venture to say just plain ol' stupid.  

Was it amusing to watch this guy feign first ignorance and then indignation (at the supposed incompetence of the Walmart barcoders who were clearly out to cause him problems)?  Well, sure.  But mostly it was a great source of irritation that while I watched this bungled sitcom of an attempted fraud unfurl before me, I wasted about fifteen minutes in line, impatiently tapping my toes waiting for my turn to purchase my three measly, correctly barcoded items.

Putting the Cart Before the Horse

April 8, 2013

My kids have a research paper due on Monday, and I gave them some time to do research in the library last week. One of my kids was looking somewhat unproductive, so I stopped by to check in with him.

Student: I'm not working right now because I'm already done.
Me: You've written your paper on Literature in the Renaissance period a week ahead of time? That's impressive! What sources did you use?
Student: That's the only part I haven't done yet. I wrote my paper already, and all I have left to do is find some resources and put 'em in.
Me: You 'already wrote' your 4 page research paper, but you haven't done any research yet? What the heck did you write? "I assume there were books? They probably printed them on paper?"

Oh geez.

Robotics Fundraiser Night at McDonald's

April 4, 2013

My Boy is Growing Up

April 4, 2013

Nicholas and his girlfriend, Elisa.  Very sweet girl!

Reyburn Track Meet

April 4, 2013

Today Danielle competed at the Central Valley Jr. Classic Track Meet, held at Reyburn Junior High.  All five Clovis middle schools were represented, as well as Firebaugh and Madera, with each team sending their three strongest girls in each of the throwing events.  Danielle has been working very hard at trying to improve her distance in discus by working out with Jim (who was a thrower himself during high school).  He's given her some great coaching, and it showed today in her event.  Up until now, her personal best distance was a 68, but her throw today hit 78.6--a very impressive improvement!  That distance earned her second place out of all the girls, and she got to come home with a medal.  In fact, her distance was the best score of all of the Clovis schools, since the first place winner was a student from Madera.  I am so happy for her and proud of her accomplishment!

When Robert Asks, You've Got to Say Yes

April 3, 2013

The CSF Lifetime banquet is coming up at our school in a month or so, and the student honorees get to invite an educator to be their sponsor.  The lovely Miss Cara Burgan, with a little help from Robert Downey, Jr., asked me to sponsor her this year.  I love this girl, and I'm thrilled and honored to get to sit by her side at the banquet next month.  I am quite certain Cara has very big things in her future!

Easter Sunday With the Family

March 31, 2013

Doug's sister Lisa invited the whole family over to celebrate Easter Sunday together.  Great food, lots of catching up (especially with Bree, who isn't around too often because she lives in San Diego), spending time with family--a great way to spend the afternoon.  Although the weather threatened briefly to turn ugly, Mother Nature was kind enough to wait until late evening to open up the rain clouds, so the afternoon weather was actually quite nice.  As always, and especially anytime my three beautiful children are together, I had my camera out and got some great pictures.  They were laughing together and in great moods, and humored my need to capture them all on film.   (Film?  I guess that's not technically accurate anymore, but you know what I mean.)  I just love how you can see how much fun they were having playing around together.  There is nothing that makes a mom happier than seeing her kids laugh together.