¡Que se lo coman!

Food is an important part of my life. Food's been a daily ritual since before I can remember, kinda like sleep. Food and I didn't go our different ways, though. We kept up through the years and he was there for all of my major milestones. Food has also always been a social event for me. We would sit around the table and eat as a family and talk. As such, I'm an extremely slow eater. I also have a bad habit of talking with my mouth full if it means I can get in a joke or otherwise add to the witty banter. This can happen many times in the course of a meal, since again, slow eater.

Now, I'm a manipulative bastard. There may even be a few who intimate that I am evil. People who know my parents always comment on how nice my parents are; how nice my mom is; how the Hell I am so evil if they're in fact my parents and not detectably so. Y'know, standard fare.

Well, power, as we've established, is influence over resistance. Just keep that in mind.

2008. The world was a different place. It was a simpler time. Well there was the widespread panic in the streets of the end of the world was a mere 4 years away according to the Mayan calendar. In an attempt to foster happiness in a hysteric world my mother invited my future wife and my future sister-in-law for brunch. My mom would teach my future sister-in-law how to make crepes.

For the culinarily-deprived crepes are sort of like thin pancakes. They are very light and they taste like awesomeness. These crepes were not only awesomeness-flavored, but it's common to serve fresh whipped cream and/or a hot cinnamon apple filling with them. Additionally, you can pour maple syrup on top of it because why the Hell not. Crepes are a bit labor-intensive to make, but well worth the pay off. So when it's crepe day it's for reals. My sister-in-law-to-be gorged herself on crepes as did the wife-to-be, and as did everyone else. We had a few left over. I had long since signaled defeat as did the wife. My mom politely suggested that someone should eat the crepes. She politely said that they don't reheat well. She politely suggested a second time that we eat the crepes. She then politely yelled that she said we should eat them, as she politely banged the table.

My wife, polite and gracious woman that she is, and her sister, being of similar stock, fearfully and obediently reached for the crepes and devoured them.

Man, it should be crepe day soon.