Occasionally, I am told, I am a good mommy. Like tonight, when I said we were having blueberry pancakes for dinner. The incredulous looks on their faces were priceless.

“Really? Pancakes for dinner???”

And I even made them using the snowflake molds I got from Williams Sonoma a few years ago. They couldn’t believe their luck that it wasn’t chili, roasted chicken with root vegetables or roasted pork and black bean soup (you know, all the horrible things I’ve been forcing upon them in the name of evil all week).

It even bought me 20 minutes of happy quietude before Neve started screaming for someone to log her into Webkinz.

And as for me, I got my fix of sugar laden, fake blueberry mapley crap. Yum.

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