He mixed and mixed and mixed some more.
He pursed his lips and stared at the spoon.
His best concentration face.
The toddler’s job was done.
The first pancake was about to enter the arena; Mummy’s turn.
Things were serious, now.
The first pancake bubbled and spat.
‘You’ll never take me alive!’ he hollered.
Mummy sighed a great sigh.
He was probably right.
The ‘first pancake flop’.
A tradition.
A curse.
But what was this?
A perfect pancake? A magic pancake.
A moment to behold!
A moment to…
Drop into a tub of butter.
Oops.
Ah! Never you mind.
The curse of the ‘first pancake flop’ was no more.
It was a pancake delight.
A banana-mango-vanilla pancake delight!
The toddler was pleased.
He’d played his part.
He’d carried his team to success.
Yes.
The toddler and his magic pancakes…
They were…
They were…
Well.
They were gone.
Just like that.