Today was Pancake Day. The delight this fact caused was both evident and, to use the one word which most aptly described the situation, loud. With the hardened affection that could only be the attribute of a parent of small children, he made pancake after pancake, each time to the audible delight of the present crowd.
Then, something happened that had not happened in a long while. He wasn’t sure if the younger ones remembered it or not, but the older ones clearly did, and they demanded it with severe gusto. He laughed and obliged – how often did you get to dance the spatula dance anyway?