Waffles And When Not To Talk

I have a confession to make.

I have a hard time not insisting things be done my way!

I'm talking about things around the house.

I've been trying lately to keep my mouth shut and be

thankful someone is helping instead of criticizing!

The dishwasher doesn't have to be loaded just like I would do it!

The world won't come to an end if the pillows aren't arranged

on the bed like I would have arranged them.

And nobody will die if the mayo isn't put back it it's

usual spot in the frig.  ha ha.  Instead, I've been

trying to say thank you for making the bed or loading

the dishwasher.  Sounds simple, I know, but I really

have to bite my tongue!  ha.

So, when The Mister asked if he could make us waffles

this morning, I had to think before each word....but

that doesn't mean I couldn't be entertained, right?

If I made some waffles, would you eat them?

Do you know how to make waffles?

Uh...no.  But I could try.

OK, I'll eat some.  I'll even make the syrup for you.

OK.  I forgot about the syrup.  So, you start with flour, I'm guessing?

The recipe is taped to the inside of the cupboard door, see?

I sip coffee as I sit and watch, determined not to butt in or insist they are made the way I would do it.  

I watch as he picks broken egg shells out of the bowl.  :)

One stick of melted butter.  Melted...as in liquid?

Yes, as in liquid. :)

He gets all the ingredients together and whisks it forever. ha.

It seems a little too thick.  Much thicker than yours.

I'm sure it's fine, but you could add more buttermilk to thin it a little.

I watch as he pours the batter into a not-quite-hot-enough waffle iron.

Eventually, I was served a couple of very pale, limp waffles.  They were thin and rubbery, but they were hot and the flavor wasn't too bad.  

Not bad for your first waffle!

The cook seemed very pleased with himself.  And how could I complain...he even did the dishes! :)