So Michele got up before I did this morning and wanted some waffles. We had two different boxes of waffle mix, and Michele thought she could just mix the two together. She tried, and soon found out that her little experiment would not work.
By the time I got out of bed she had lifted the wafflemaker up and pieces, half liquid/half solid, were dropping off. She then tried to see if she could take the mix and make pancakes out of them, but that failed as well.
Normally, she would laugh off something like this; normally, Michele makes wonderful breakfasts...and lunches, and dinners. She's very competent in the kitchen.
But pregnancy, I've learned, turns a tattered waffle into a crisis worthy of tears...
I'm elated to meet my new daughter when she finally arrives, and even happier that I'll be getting my very reasonable, good-humored wife back in the bargain.
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