Dessert for Breakfast

"I thought I smelled waffles," Isaac said rising late this morning. "I thought you'd make those."

Because our school district has a two-day break this week, Aaron had a friend stay overnight. Isaac knew we let our guests choose the breakfast.

"It's what Nick chose," I replied, "Will you eat eggs with ham too?"

"Sure!" Isaac grinned and headed downstairs for a round of video games. One-by-one, I pulled the waffles off my "Five of Hearts" iron - the one my husband bought me for Christmas years ago when we were dating. He drove from our work headquarters in International Falls to Duluth to fulfill a pipe dream of mine.

As a teenager, I learned to make dessert waffles in Norway. How my host family laughed at the American way of serving sweets for breakfast. Yet here I stood this morning using that waffle iron – Dan bought at a Duluth Scandinavian shop – making our morning meal. Noah rose a little later and asked, "What day is it?"

"Monday and free day off today and tomorrow," I replied.

He
smiled
and
pointed
to
my
display
plate,

"Waffles!
Can I have
that one?"


"Why not?"
I said and hollered downstairs to feed the hungry Dessert for Breakfast.