Monday, September 24, 2007

Double Chocolate Chocolate Pancakes

So I'm making pancakes yesterday, a new kind, some all natural, Double Chocolate Chocolate or something...

As I'm pouring the first one onto the pan, I hear my almost 7 year old dancing around the living room and singing, "Ohhhh, chocolate pancakes, I'm having chocolate chocolate pancakes pancakes, I love pancakes, oh yeahhhh..." and wraps it up with a sincere and very enthusiastic, "Pancakes ROCK!!!"

I smile to myself, happy that I can make the kid this jubilant about something, ANYTHING ... because Mommy is usually the adversary because, well, just because it's *Mommy* ... and Daddy's usually the ALLY. :: insert eye roll here ::

It's in that unfortunate moment that I realize the consistancy isn't right, but I figure that has to do with the fact that it's all natural or something. I flip it and notice that the "skin" is REALLY tough, like tougher than it's supposed to get.

Long story short, I realize that I completely fucked up the mixture, having mixed in the wrong amount of eggs and milk ... and of course, I have no more Double Chocolate Chocolate pancake mix.

So I do what any normal mom and wife would do ... I call my husband over to come taste it. And he, playing X-box, pretends not to hear me and doesn't come. :: sigh ::

I taste a little piece of it and frankly, it tastes like shit. Now comes the hard part - I have to inform my previously jubilant child that there will be no Double Chocolate Chocolate pancakes for lunch today.

I call her over and show her the mix and explain that I didn't do the math correctly and added the wrong amount of eggs and milk ... and the pancakes are un-eatable.

She took it really well, so I said jokingly, "Well, I can't do *everything* right, ya know!"

And my daughter, not yet 7, standing on a stool beside me, puts her arms around me, rests her head on my chest, looks up and me and says, "You do this right."

I can't help but cry ... tears stream down my face as I hug her back and tell her that that is the sweetest thing she's ever said to me. I thank her and tell her I love her. When she's had enough mush, she smiles and goes inside to where her dad is sitting.

As I wipe my tears and start washing the pan, I hear him laughing hysterically. This child, upon hearing the sniffles, said to her dad, "Oh, great ... Now she's washing the pan with her tears."

:: sigh ::

Gotta love this age!

Monday, September 10, 2007


I give myself one last look in the mirror. Did I wear the right thing? Do I look alright? This is a first impression, don't fuck it up, Delilah. I chose a v-neck dark grey shirt and simple black dress pants. I even wore my low heeled boots so that I wouldn't risk tripping, falling, and embarrassing the hell out of myself.

As I head up the block, I see you standing outside the place we planned to meet. All I can think is, calm down, nothing to be nervous about ... don't trip, Delilah, please don't trip ...

You don't see me yet, you're leaning casually on the wall, smoking a cigarette. I get closer, and you turn your head towards me. He's fucking adorable, I whisper out loud to myself. You take a drag as you spot me and smile. My stomach flutters at that smile ...

"Hey there, Delilah," you say as I reach you, and I roll my eyes and smile.

"Hey there, Jimmy," I say. "Good to see you, handsome."

We move in for what becomes an awkward hug, neither of us really knowing how to greet the other. We part quickly and in an attempt to kiss hello on the cheek, both of us end of kissing the air next to the others ear.

I'm visibly nervous, and seeing that, you say, "You look great. Want to get a drink?"

I exhale, not aware that I'd been holding my breath and say, "Yes ... or three."

We walk into the bar, a place I'd never been, and we grab a small table in a dimly lit corner. We order a couple of beers and you smile.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised to see that you drink beer..." you say, jokingly.

Giggling, I ask, "What, did you really see me as the fruity little drink kinda girl?"

"No, no ... not at all," you answer with a big smile.

Over a few more beers, we make small talk about the place, about our day, and as we're laughing, I realize that I'm feeling much more at ease ... I'm not drunk but relaxed, and it's coming naturally now. I'm more thankful for alcohol than I've ever been before.

At one point, I'm trying to explain and sort of diagram something on the table with my fingers and the salt and peppers shakers, and while I'm in the middle of it, you put your hands on mine. I stop talking to look up at you, and you're smiling. I smile back as my stomach flutters again and I can feel any tension that remains slip out of my hands, as if you were gently guiding it out of my fingertips and into the table, where it belonged.

"Delilah ..."


"I'm really glad we're here ... with you ... together. I'm glad I'm here with you and we're together."

I smile and where I'd normally out of habit cover my smile with my hand, I consciously realize that if I take my hand off the table that you won't be touching me anymore. I decide against this and instead tilt my head down, trying to cover the smile that's already been seen.

"See," you say, "I told you, I'm a bumbling idiot around cute girls."

"Jimmy, there's nothing bumbling about you right now. Do you feel like taking a walk, I'm getting really warm in here and I don't know, I'm just a little ..."

You cut me off, "Yes, that sounds good."

We finish our drinks and leave, and stepping out into the cool autumn air is refreshing. We take a few steps and as we're walking, our hands bump. You take my hand in yours and I smile.

"Feels nice...", I say, and you just nod in agreement.

We talk and laugh ... and I realize how slowly we're walking. Walking through the city at night with you, hand in hand ... is absolutely exhilerating, and I'm loving every second of it.

"Look at how slow we're walking ..." I say.

"I think," you say carefully, "'s because we don't want this night to end."

"Ya know!" I exclaim. "I was thinking the same thing!"

We laugh and eventually find our way to a stone sitting wall, and I say, "OK, cigarette break?"

We sit down next to each other, each lighting a cigarette, and you scoot over a little closer to me. You reach over and take my hand, resting them on my thigh.

"Don't you be getting any ideas, Jimmy. Remember, I'm saving it for marriage," I say flirtingly.

We laugh and hold each others hand a little tighter. I'm looking up at the buildings across the street when I notice you looking at me. I turn my face towards you and smile.

"Delilah... Your face, the way you look around at everything and take it all in. Delilah ... I think you're beautiful."

I smile and maintain eye contact with you ... "Stoppit, you're making me blush ... I just like to SEE things, ya know? I like to see it all ..."

Your face moves a little closer to mine and I say, "... appreciate it all, ya know ..."

Your face comes closer ... and I remind myself to breathe...

"Live every minute..." I say.

Closer still ... breathe Delilah ...

"Never let a moment ... pass you by..." I whisper.

Your face is almost touching mine now, and I close my eyes.

I feel you kiss me, your lips on mine ... and my body goes wild. I don't remember where I am, who I am ... My mind races and my heart flutters and my stomach flips. I'm experiencing excitement and sedation all at once and I feel as if I could explode or implode or something.

The only thing I'm sure of, as I feel your lips pressed on mine ... is that I don't ever want this kiss to end ... I want it to be Endless.