Waffled

One night last week, I was with my grandson, talking with him about his endless day at school, and after school, and being with Papa, Auntie Dee Dee, the new baby, his uncle, and his aunt, and various other people before I brought him home to his own house. We were chatting about the usual things when he said, “Grammy, can’t you stay over tonight?”
I replied,” No, I have to go home, Auntie DD has school and Papa has work.”
“But Grammy,” he said, “When, are you going to stop being Papa’s slave?” And I laughed, “So you think I am Papa’s slave?” And he nodded his head as he held my arm and I just laughed again, “Someday.”

Later that evening I told my husband what Johnny had said.
“You are more his slave than mine.” My husband was indignant, and I didn’t say anything, but I smiled inside.

On Friday, after a long 10 hours plus day I returned home to the infamous DD requesting a ride to the Plaza, “We have to go today. Tomorrow is Stacey’s birthday party and I’ve nothing for her. Cash my check. When are we leaving? I want to go in 20 minutes.”

Exhausted, I capitulated and off we went to the plaza, Johnny, DD, and I.

DD was going to Hot Topic, a store I truthfully like, but … I am in need of some new white cotton gowns which are, for some reason unbeknown to me, very hard to find. I like sleeveless long white cotton nighties. So Johnny and I went to Filene’s, while DD went to the Goth store. Filene’s had not a thing, polyester blends..yek! I wasn’t interested.
But then I remembered I needed a new frying pan. I had thrown away my 12 inch -- lack of Teflon.
Calphalon was on sale. That stuff is heavy. I examined it. Lifted 4 different brands. Johnny meanwhile had found something else. A waffle maker, not a round waffle maker, not a square waffle maker, but a dipping - stick waffle maker that even came with a dipping station. It was on the half price rack. I lifted the box, $50.00. Wow expensive for a waffle maker. Cuisinart, a good name. I asked the clerk,” How much?”
“$40.00”
“Humm, maybe another kind?”
The clerk took me about the department. They had some very fine waffle makers. But nothing like the dipping waffler. I wavered, and after 10 minutes of contemplation, I waffled, “I’ll take it.” And two calphalon pieces, one frying pan with a cover, and a square skillet. Charged.
We were off, out of Filene’s into the plaza searching for a white Polo hat and Aunt DD at the same time.
“When are we going home Grammy?" Can we make the waffles when we get there? I can’t wait til we have the waffles Grammy.” Johnny went on and on. Waffles.
We met up with Aunt DD who spent all her $$ in one stop, so out to the car we went.

"Couldn’t we get a pretzel Grammy?" Johnny asked.
“No Johnny, we will have waffles when we get home.”
“Waffles.” Johnny fell asleep on the drive. Papa came out to get him and was carrying the child up the stairs when he suddenly popped opened his eyes as if he had slept all night,
“Papa, I can’t go to bed. Grammy is making me waffles.” Down the steps he trotted in his socks. Out came the pancake mix, no scratch tonight. Out came the waffle stick maker, directly to the sink for a before use washing, then, the directions, bowls, and spatulas, oil, milk and
the Dipping Station --- to the sink---
3 little dipping cups and a cradle for them to dock in.
We made the batter, and set the timer, waffle sticks after waffle sticks, maple syrup, and honey, and jam, Papa, Uncle Ricky, Auntie Heather, Auntie DD, Johnny, Mikey, and Grammy …. Everyone from every room in the house came out. Johnny’s Momma came in. It was 11:30 and there were waffles in the kitchen and smiles in the house.
The family that never gets to dine together was hanging out.
“You spoil him,” Papa said to me.
“Without him there wouldn’t be this joy,” I grinned.
Papa agreed, “You are still more his slave than mine.”
“Maybe,” I said, Johnny nodded.