The Story Of How I Didn't Eat An Entire Recipe Of Waffles For Breakfast.

This morning I woke up on the early side. I went downstairs for some breakfast and noticed that the house seemed awfully quiet (aside from Mr. Cat flinging things off of the counters). I looked out the window and noticed that the car was gone. After a quick look around, I determined that I was alone in the house.

The kitchen was on the messy side so I decided to straighten up a little. After washing (almost) all the dishes and loading the dishwasher, I felt like I deserved a treat.

It seemed too early for ice cream and pancakes just didn't feel right. After a lot of thought and consideration, it came to me. Waffles. Not just any waffles, chocolate chip waffles.

I put on an apron, hunted down the recipe and got to work. Rice and barley flour dusted the counter tops and some of the batter mysteriously ended up on the wall. It was time to get out the waffle iron.
The hardest part about making waffles is trying to figure out exactly how much batter needs to go into the iron to ensure the perfect waffles. I put too little in the first batch but by the third batch I had discovered the secret.

Beautifully crisped waffles lay stacked on their plate, just waiting to be eaten. I was finishing up the last batch when I was struck by a genius idea, I should eat ALL of them. There would be no
witnesses, no one would ever know.

Pleased by my ingenuity, I picked out the chocolatiest waffles and got to work. I was finishing off my third waffle when I began to feel a little sick. I looked at the waffles sitting on the counter and realized that my plan might not have been quite as genius as I had originally thought.

I decided to call on some friends for advice. "Is eating an entire recipe of waffles for breakfast a good idea?" the general consensus was "No". I decided to heed the wise words of my friends and put my waffle back onto the plate.

I looked around at the shambles of the once clean kitchen. The waffle iron had dripped a little after I had overfilled it with batter and one of the cats had rolled around on the counter top and was now coated in a light layer of flour. I straightened the kitchen up and chased the cat around with a dishtowel in an effort to clean up my mess.

The counters were clean and the cat was hiding in the couch. I put the waffles into the microwave and stuck some sticky notes on the door to let my parents know that they should eat them.
After a quick survey around the kitchen I gave myself a pat on the back for a job well done and returned to my tower.