My slice of life story begins with a little slice of breakfast. My family is rarely able to have breakfast together with husband leaving before 4AM (life of a soldier) and myself left to wake, dress, feed, and get to prospective places the children, so weekends are breakfast time at our home. Today was one of those treasured moments when we all get to partake in a lovely brunch as a family.
Hubby and I quickly began preparing the meal of bacon, sausage, eggs, pancakes, OJ, and Milk. Our oldest entertained the youngest two with Sophia the First and then helped by setting the table. Our lone boy, was lost in his DS as per usual. After the eggs were scrambled, the sausage fried, the bacon burnt, and the pancakes flipped, we all sat down to a wonderfully set table.
I had only to help with the drinks and supply the ever loved and much necessary syrup. Oh, but the syrup. That rich, buttery Aunt Jemima syrup was placed on the table with only a thin and I mean very, very thin layer coating the bottom of the bottle. I saw five sets of eyes look at the bottle and then look at me. Will this be enough for six people of hearty appetite? Not likely.
So, I did what any mother would do. I addressed the syrupy elephant in the room with an acknowledgement that there was not a lot and we should all take just what we needed making sure each of us got some. I watched with pride as my four children each got a little. My oldest again helping her little sisters. Hubby took his turn next and I returned the bottle to the table passing on my portion.
When my “as though they have never eaten before” brood took seconds of pancakes, I passed the bottle of syrup around and again all took their portion saving some for the next. When done, my oldest of 12 said, “Mom, why do you always do that? Why do you sacrifice what you want to make sure we get what we want?” Aww…She noticed. I was almost brought to tears that my small act of skipping syrup was noticed on such a grand scale.
I explained that she had done the same thing by taking a little instead of the usual ocean of syrup she loves to allow pancakes to drown in. She gave me a smirky smile and I knew she understood it was more than that and not an isolated incident. What a treasure when your motherly kindness is noticed by those you love the most. I can only hope it continues to prompt her to do the same.