That was the first thing my son said when he came home from a sleepover at a friend’s house. He told me they had waffles for breakfast.
I’d always thought of those things as just another gadget that would end up collecting dust. I had no intention of buying one. But then I happened to come across a good secondhand one, and I couldn’t resist bringing it home.
The batter is runnier than for pancakes. Just pour it in, press, and in less than two minutes, the waffles are ready.
This is good. Easier than making pancakes in a frying pan.
My kids carefully place their knives along the waffle’s cut lines. It’s perfect practice for using a knife and fork.
The little heart-shaped piece they cut out seemed to hold so much. The ease of the waffle maker. The joy of that first bite. Small signs of growing up. And the little happiness of a slow Sunday morning.