Who doesn’t love pancakes? I’m talking about buttermilk pancakes, made from scratch, with 100% pure maple syrup. Not mix from a box. Not “maple-flavored” syrupy goo.

I’m talking about the kind of pancakes Mrs. has been making for me for nearly four decades. The real deal. Sometimes with pecans or blueberries.

Yeah, I get it about carbs and gluten and butter and sugar and all that. I get that my waistline isn’t going to make me an Instagram celebrity.

But when she whips up the batter and brings it with the griddle and spatula and syrup and some OJ too, all to the poker game at 5:45 am because we’re still playing and she wakes up early and still loves me… well, damn that’s good!

Good to be spoiled.

Good to be the KKing.


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