Yesterday I made pancakes for Zach. He got this idea somewhere that he wants a stack of pancakes every day for breakfast. I think it's really cute that he tells me he wants not just pancakes, but a stack of pancakes.
Anyway, I saved two of them in the fridge so he could have them this morning. He was very happy to have pancakes again, but sulked after he ate them because there were no more. He wanted me to whip up a new batch, to which I said no, since two pancakes is enough for a little boy.
Yesterday I gave him five pancakes in two short stacks. Then I had two myself. I sat across the table from him and when he had finished his pancakes he looked at mine like he was a starving man. He was licking his lips and salivating he wanted my pancakes so bad. I said no way buster and hid them from his view with my arm.
There's no moral to this story. I just thought it was cute. I don't know how I'm going to keep him fed when he's a teenager.