A short time after we were married, Pat and I went out for breakfast. Both of us being hungry, we each ordered bacon and eggs and a short stack. Pat made it a point to tell the waitress to be sure the pancakes were on a separate plate. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. Several days later, we went out again and ordered the same thing. We were busy talking, and Pat neglected to tell the waitress about the separate plate for the pancakes. Pat noticed the discrepancy as the waitress was serving us and requested a plate for her pancakes. I thought it to be kind of strange but figured there was nothing wrong with her having a quirk or two. She said, “The eggs were almost touching the pancakes.” I said, “So what?” She said, “The eggs cannot touch the pancakes!” That was strange but being a better eater than a conversationalist, I let it go and prepared to eat my own stuff. My technique is to put the pancakes in the middle of the plate, butter them, place the eggs on top of the stack, break the yolks, and pour syrup over the whole thing.
Over the years, I never gave the egg and pancake thing any thought. This week, my senior brain was blank. I went to Pat, and told her I needed a story for my blog, and, with her permission, would like to tell about the eggs and the pancakes. She agreed, and I was about to head for the office and work on the story. It occurred to me then, that after 64 years of marriage, maybe I should find out more about this situation. I said, “Why can’t the eggs touch the pancakes?” She said, “A salted item should not be mixed with a sweet item! That’s disgusting!” There you have it. The mystery is solved. I guess I’m a little slow on the uptake, but I eventually get there.