There's pancake in my pocket

We have a Saturday morning tradition at our house.  It should be sleeping in.  It's not.  It's Pancake Day!  This is extremely exciting if you are 8, 6, 3, and 1.  Not so exciting if you are over 20.  It's every Saturday and it's not too complicated.  We make pancakes.  From the bag.  Nothing special at all!  We don't even make anything with the pancakes.  We sometimes do sprinkles.  However, it has become a regular tradition and the kids LOVE it.  Josh starts it after 'les terribles' (in case you didn't know, this is French for 'the terribles' - our semi-joking nickname for the boys) have gotten up; usually when the sun is somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean.  He lets them stir, and then we begin to make 'em.  This is beginning to be a bit more work than it used to be as the boys are eating a LOT more.  I am thinking about adding eggs to Pancake Day! as they are cheap.

Usually, the mixing and frying (When you cook pancakes, is it called frying?  Hmmm) is accompanied by singing.  Josh always has a song in his head (Bram does too), and they sing one or two lines over and over and over and well, you get the idea.  They even use different voices.  There is the Nazareth Choir Voice, the falsetto voice, the growly bear voice, Darth Vader voice, as well as many, many, many others.  This goes on  approximately until I loose my mind and start yelling for silence, and take over the pancake cooking.  Frying.  Whatever.

The BEST part of Pancake Day! is the pj's.  I wear my pj's as long as possible and so do the kids.  I love wearing my jammies and drinking coffee.  My jam's are nothing exciting.  An old tee shirt that has seen four pregnancies, and pair of comfy pants and this huge, what used to be brown, really old zip up hoodie.  The elastic is coming out of the sleeves, and it is falling apart rapidly.  I hold my breath every time I wash it, because I'm never sure if it's coming out in one piece.  I love this sweat shirt. 

So, it is post Pancake Day! and the kids have been washed up, the dishes put away, even the floor was swept for the crumbs that Lucy the Dog missed. Joshie is reading the paper, and Ivy is crawling around.  The other three are downstairs watching cartoons.  (Have you noticed, cartoons are awful these days?) I am drinking my last cup of coffee, and I shove my hands into the pockets of my sweatshirt.  My fingers discover something.  It's cold.  Slightly wet.  Squishy and soft.  And, yep, seems to be falling apart in my fingers, yet, strangely, I can mold it into a spitball type wad.  The nuttiest part is that I conduct this little science observation all within my pocket.  I pull it out, and yep.  Pancake.  How on earth did a largish piece of pancake end up in my pocket?  I have no idea, but there it was. 

Gotta chalk that one up to "Things I Never Thought That I Would Actually Be Carrying Around With Me." and then laugh a little!