Mom was an excellent cook. Except that her pancakes were always tough. Looking back, I think she must have beat the batter too much.
One morning she tried again--made us pancakes for breakfast. We could not eat them. She got mad and threw them out the kitchen window.
The following day I found our yellow cat dead in the back yard. His mouth was full of mom's pancakes. Mom never lived it down.
Neither, of course, did the cat.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
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