Just one time makes a tradition

The kids asked to have breakfast for dinner last night. Harry was particularly excited about this idea– that kid is a breakfast eating machine. In the midst of his enthusiasm I reminded him, “Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. Are you sure?”

“YES!” he shouts, sans hesitation.

His answer insures that he and his siblings are about to eat pancakes for two meals straight.

But the Valentine’s Day breakfast pancakes are not just any pancakes. These are special, heart-shaped-frosted-with-sprinkles pancakes. It was a tradition started so long ago I don’t even remember, only that at sometime in my poverty-stricken, family-on-another-coast-all-alone-out-here-with-two-kids past, I decided we needed something like that. Some kind of special something that, even on a middle-of-the-road weekday, we could get happy about breakfast.

I think it began on St. Patrick’s Day, with the green pancakes. It grew to birthdays with candles and frosting and Valentine’s Day with hearts, and Halloween with candy corns. It appears that the one food I can make and never screw up is the holiday pancake.

My kids love it. They go nuts for it. In fact, last year Gabby was sick on Valentine’s Day, as was Harry, and both were at my house. It was Gab’s first time enjoying Valentine’s pancakes. She still asks about them and was bummed that she wouldn’t be at our house this year to enjoy them.

Maybe I’ll have a repeat on Sunday?