My mom sent me a picture text this morning. As soon as I saw it I dove out of bed, scrambled into my most comfy sweatshirt and dashed down the stairs.

I was at my parents' house in fifteen minutes, plate in hand, smile on my face, and "Fresh waffle, please!" on my lips. (Dad makes the best homemade waffles. Mmmm...)

Half-way through my light, fluffy, golden brown waffle (complete with homemade blueberry syrup). My mom says,

"I'm so glad you showed up!" (OF COURSE I showed up. Dad was making waffles. I saw it in the text.) "Didn't you think my text this morning was HILARIOUS!?!" I looked at her puzzled. She points to Julie's hair. Poor Bops used too much hairspray last night and her hair looked like a Hurricane Katrina pathway. I pulled out my phone,

"Ooooh! THAT'S what this picture was of!"

"What did you think it was?"

I turned the phone towards her and pointed. There, in the upper left corner of my screen, the only area not obscured by Julie's hair, she saw...

My father making waffles.