Guilt Food Sunday

November 18, 2011
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By Kathy Miele

MY SON ALEX came wandering into the kitchen wiping the sleep from his eyes. It was three in the afternoon. “Do I smell sausages?” he asked.
“Good afternoon!” my husband Steven and I said to him in unison.
“Yeah, I guess I did sleep in,” Alex admitted as he saw the place that was all set for him at the kitchen counter.
Max was already sitting at the counter, holding a fork in one hand and a knife in the other. “You can thank me for this,” he said as he put his fork down and pulled out a kitchen stool for his brother to sit on.
“What’s the occasion?” Alex asked. He sat down and took a sip from his glass of orange juice.
“Guilt,” Max said.
“It’s not guilt,” I corrected as I watched Steven pour the pancake mix into the pan. “On weekends you tow don’t get up until mid-afternoon,” I explained. “Your dad and I never think to make breakfast for you anymore.”
Max leaned over to Alex. “Yesterday I happened to mention that we haven’t had one of Dad’s pancake breakfasts in a long time.” He pushed the bottle of syrup closer to his brother. “Now look what’s happening!”
Steven brought over a stack of pancakes and a plate of sausages. “Dig in!” he said as he placed the dishes in front of the boys.
While the boys ate we all began talking about anything and everything. Fifteen minutes later the plates were empty and my cheeks hurt from laughing. “I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed these weekend breakfasts!” I admitted.
“Me too,” Steven said. “Do you remember where we put my waffle maker?”
I thought for a moment. “I think its up in the attic. I can check after I clean up.”
“Who wants waffles next Sunday?” Steven asked.
“Sounds good to me,” Alex and Max said together.
Then Alex looked over at Max with a sad look on his face. “Can you remember the last time we had any of Mom’s homemade chocolate chip cookies?”
“Wow,” Max said. “It’s been so long. I can’t remember.”
Both boys turned to me with smiles on their faces.
“You two are good,” I said as I began to look in the cabinet for what ingredients I needed to buy. “I guess I’m baking this afternoon.”
“More guilt food coming!” Alex said as he put his dishes in the sink and game me a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Mom.”
“It’s not guild food!” I called to the boys as they headed for their rooms. I looked over at Steven. “Is it?”
“I don’t care what you call it,” he said. “I’m just having fun making it for them again.”

The Spirit of Shrewsbury

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