Tuesday, January 30, 2007

What does God have against waffles?

Last Friday morning, I started making waffles for breakfast. As I was mixing the dry ingredients, I realized with a sinking heart that I had run out of baking powder. Ratso. I kept the bowl of flour and sugar and sealed it up for a later time. ( Hmmm...that sounds vaguely reminiscent of a passage in the book of Revelation...)( Or is it Daniel?)

Yesterday I went shopping and got, among other things, some baking powder. So this morning, I finished making the batter. I got out our nice little waffle iron ( an oft used and much appreciated wedding gift from the P-----'s of Chestnut Hill) and plugged it in. And nothing happened. I tried four different outlets to make sure it wasn't just a faulty outlet but to no avail. In the midst of this exercise in futility, I heard a small, moist noise. I looked around to see Brad's STUPID CAT up on the counter with his head in the bowl, lapping up the waffle batter for all he was worth. I was SO mad. And I let him know it. All my waffle making efforts- down the drain- literally.

When Grandpa came upstairs for breakfast, I told him about the issues that had prevented me from making waffles. ( He LOVES waffles so I try to make them at least once every couple of weeks.) He accepted the matter quite calmly and said, "Well, maybe the Lord didn't want us to have waffles this morning." Well, I guess NOT! I guess the Lord wants us on a strictly cold cereal breakfast regimen. Okay. Whatever. I sort of doubt divine intervention was necessary but who knows....Maybe one of the eggs was carrying some sort of mutant disease that would have reduced us to foaming at the mouth and generally carrying on in a horrifying manner. Like mad cow disease- but mad chicken disease in this case. ( But I bought special vegetarian-fed hen eggs...so I doubt this is a possibility...) I'll have to keep an eye on Stan to watch for any ill effects of the waffle batter. If he grows a third eye, I'll know that a miracle occurred and that an angel must have come and struck the waffle iron and planted the idea in Stan's head that it would be good to lick the batter, rendering it unfit for human consumption, and thereby saving us from a horrible fate. The canary in the mine thing. If I go out and buy another waffle iron and my third attempt at waffle making is somehow also foiled, I will conclude that, indeed, God wants me to give up waffles in general. Okay, maybe I'm taking it a bit far here.

Later, as I was relating the story to Brad, I complained that the worst part was that the precious ingredients had gone to waste. ( I was thinking particularly of those two vegetarian-fed-hen eggs. Those things don't come a dime a dozen. Nor do they grow on trees.) And then there was the milk and the flour and the... "Hmmmm...all of seventy fives cents worth of groceries..." was his reply. Oh. Yeah. Nothing like a good choleric husband to help you see beyond the supposed tragedy of the thing to the simple, unemotional facts of the matter. I guess I can deal with seventy five cents of loss.

Well, let me know if you see any good sales on waffle irons.

There, Aaron- how's that for a non-anecdote post? ;)

14 comments:

ljmax said...

I was just reading various essays (parts of them) about superstition in Huck Finn and then I saw your post. It all seemed to flow together nicely...

kw said...

You know whose fault it really is don't you? The P---'s...(whoever they are). Also..how interesting that Bradley is a choleric?! Would have classed him perhaps as a phlegmatic, but that's ok...hes one of the few cholerics that I really like then!!! No offense all you cholerics out there...

Claire said...

K - I didn't know he was a choleric EITHER until it was TOO LATE and I'd already fallen for him! I think it was well into our courtship - or maybe even after we were married- that I found out. He was cunningly disguised as a phlegmatic in my eyes as well.

And as for the waffle iron, it's a Cuisinart which is a great name...and I remember writing the Thankyou note for it and saying that I would bless Jean P------ every time I made waffles...( Maybe that gives you a clue as to who it is...)Maybe I forgot to bless her once when I made waffles and that's why it quit...Well, I HAVE used it A LOT...Maybe I should dig up the papers and see if I have a warranty...

Aaron S. said...

Incredibly intriguing! :)

drewey fern said...

WOW! Liane! Reading essays on Huck Finn and superstition?! I am so very impressed.

And alas for the waffle iron:(

Linds said...

If a brand new waffle iron also doesn't work, mayhaps your should throw some frozen waffles in the toaster and see if it is rendered un-usable as well. Then you'd see if it was God's curse on waffles in general, or just homemade ones. :)

DJ said...

this post = funny :-)

mysticism = bad :-(

Stan = VERY bad. hahahaa...

TripleNine said...

MMmmm... I don't think I've had waffles since graduating from bible school.

Great post by the way.

Brenda Jo said...

Check out "Pancakes for Breakfast" by Tomie DePaola from your local library. It's a cute wordless kids book about this nice old lady who goes all over the farm and to the maple-syrup-man, collecting all the needed ingredients. She's picturing the whole enjoyable ritual of making and eating them, only to come home to Pets Eating The Ingredients! So she invites herself to the neighbor's breakfast. But I'll leave the last two pages for you to discover.

Shari said...

Maybe God wanted STAN to have the waffles, but not you guys. ;-)

And maybe Brad is a phlegmatic choleric. I know we're usually more than one type. I think Brent is a phlegmatic, and I'm mostly sanguine. I love personality tests.

Amy said...

Oh my. Growing up my mom always made waffles from scratch. Russell's mom always made them from a box. Seeing as how we both grew up on waffles superior to the other's waffles (Me: So good and healthy and wonderful! Him: So fluffy and consistent!), we don't make waffles around here very often. Now I know that is a good thing, seeing as how God might not want me to eat them.

And around here I'm always the one to point out that yes, the dog may have managed to lick his ice cream when he wasn't looking (and whose fault is that??), but that we probably aren't going to have to declare bankruptcy over it. We just might have to get a new bowl with some new scoops. Egad.

Super Philosophizer! said...

And God made Pancakes and He saw that it was Good.

Waffles are a result of the Fall. From perfectly round, smooth pancakes comes these deformed, crennalated items.

God is trying to save your SOUL!!!!

maldrich said...

I personally think that the moral of this story is that cats should NEVER be allowed to live in houses! For 1- they make me sneeze, 2-they like to drink the dish and toilet water, 3- they leave lots of their being behind when they move from one place to another, mostly fur, 4- we have to feed them and take care of them, and 5- they eat waffle batter. Clearly a sign that everyone should own a post hole digger in case they take their brain out and adopt said animal! Ok, I'm not that against cats, but I'm glad I don't have one, I have plenty of other things that like toilet water and waffle batter in my house!

As for waffle irons, I just got one from Sam's Club this past year. It was a chunk of money, but it's a Belgian Waffle maker and cooks really fast because it's one of those professional versions that hotels and places have for people to cook their own- you know the kind that you pour in the mix, close it, and the flip it over? Well, anyway, I LOVE IT!!!! It heats up fast, it cooks to different settings, and makes awesomely fat, plump waffles. I could almost eat one right now- except I'm not at home!

Sorry this comment is so long- I just got started on my words to use up for the day and I've got a long way to go!

ljmax said...

I am still laughing about the angel striking the waffle iron.