September 25, 2010

The Bishop's Breakfast


A few times a year, the leaders of our church make pancakes for the congregation. If eating breakfast is all that is required, I would be fine. Unfortunately, attendance at these events comes with the expectation that guests will do the s-word: socialize.

That's more than I'm capable of doing on any given Saturday morning.

My children, on the other hand, have a neurotic obsession with the Bishop's Breakfast. Their fantasy includes an all-you-can-eat Las Vegas-style buffet line. My husband told them to imagine instead a paper plate containing two soggy pancakes and a strip of bacon...if they're lucky.

Despite the reality check, nothing could dampen their enthusiasm for the party.

"I lost the handout that they gave us at church," I told them truthfully. "I can't remember when exactly the breakfast is."

My children have minds like steel traps and informed me that the breakfast was scheduled for this morning at 8am.

That seemed a little on the early side, but we went anyway. The parking lot was empty.

[insert 5 minutes of mass hysteria]

"It's probably at 9 or 10, but we can't come back because you have a soccer game," I told them.

Everyone calmed down when I agreed to make pancakes at home.

My almost two-year-old decided to help. Everything was going well until I turned my back to get an egg out of the refrigerator.

That's when he spit into the batter.

Disgusting?

Yes. But also strangely fitting.

15 comments

Just Plain Tired said...

So you dodged a bullet there, huh? ;)

Emmy said...

I have been in charge of some breakfasts as the Activity Chair and yeah, the first few kids seem to take everything leaving nothing for the rest of us.

Katie said...

Funny. At our church they have breakfasts that the Boy Scouts serve and then the K of C (bunch of old men that don't have much of an appetite (for anything)). I make sure we make it to the Boy Scouts Pancake breakfasts, they serve everyone like they would themselves, we get heaping plates of pancakes and sausage then!

Connie said...

You probably would have gotten some spit in the batter at the Bishop's breakfast too!

Donna said...

At least it's all in the family and you don't have to worry about stranger's germs.

Charlene said...

Will you experience deja vu when you find out it's next weekend, and not today?

Tip: Fake a headache and let your hubby take all the kids to the activity. Then you can have a hot bath and give yourself a pedicure in peace!

Cheap&Sweet said...

Man Im going to make pancakes for BF! Yummy - the spit!

grammaDawn said...

We just dodged a HP social, thinking it was this Friday. As I was searching my cookbooks for something different to bring I thought I would check my email one more time to see if it was dinner or snacky foods. Hmmmm, missed it by a week.....darn!

Anna said...

Charlene has the right idea there. :)

The Meditative Mom said...

lol too funny!

Julie said...

I can't get past the spit. When my husband had cancer he did a lot of spitting and it just grosses me out. I think I might have thrown up if I saw that!

I hate socializing so I always send my husband to ward activities. I used to go when we needed 2 parents for cutting up kids food but now that they are pretty much old enough to do it themselves, I stay home!

amyrose said...

I love the Bishop's breakfasts!

Natalie said...

Now that my dad's a bishop we get roped into going frequently to his ward's breakfast even though it's in another state. My husband even has to man the bacon griddle. However, my dad serves everyone like he's serving himself so there is plenty of food to go around!

Renny said...

Like Katie, in my ward growing up in AZ we had Boy Scout pancake breakfasts. They were delicious, we'd always go support the scouts and get a plateful of pancakes, bacon, and fresh fruit. Fortunately, since relatively few people came, we didn't have to socialize, and there was always extra. Here in Vermont they don't seem to have a testimony of such activities, although we do have a ward linger longer on the second Sunday of the month...

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