Since birth, you held me down like US oppression. When I used to be broke (last week) all I had to do was add water and BAMN, I got meals for days.
When I didn’t have the culinary skills to impress a woman, you let me put two rinky dink ass strawberries on top of you to make a bomb ass pre coitus meal (although pancake farts ruined that experience).
And forget that light skin vs dark skin pancake debate. The only color that matters to me is brown. Or golden brown. Which kind of makes you light skinned. But whatever.
I like you however.
Pancake soup. Pancake smoothies. Pancakes with mini chunks of other pancakes in them (Cake-ception). Doesn’t matter. I’ll take em all to the Ball. The Ball being my intestinal tract.
Pancakes, on this day, I just want to say on this day that you are beautiful and sexy and your dreams are valid.
I love you.
Did you know that raw pancake dust is an aphrodisiac according to the scientists in my mind?