This morning I did something spectacular. I never attempted this activity before. I guess as an unwilling “senior” I decided it was time spice it up. Try something new. Put some excitement into my ho-hum life. I don’t know what preempted me to challenge myself; perhaps it was the inspiration I got from the interviews of the Olympic athletes or Mathew McConaughey on CBS Sunday morning. So, when the program ended, I got out of my chair and went into the kitchen. I was ready to push the edges. Try something never attempted in my whole life. I was ready to blaze a trail. (Add any other “out-there” cliches you can think of here.)
Are you ready? Here it is: I flipped a crepe like a REAL chef! Yup. That’s right. I steadied my wrist, swirled the the skinny little pancake in my skillet and flipped it into the air over the hot flame of my gas stove. In an instant, it came down right side up into my skillet! It was one of the most thrilling experiences I’ve had in a LONG time. I was so proud of myself, I gave myself a fist bump, let out a grunt, and yelled, “Yeah!”
Ken came flying into the kitchen with his wheelchair on full-power, screeching to a stop. He exclaimed, “Sweetheart! What’s wrong?”
I stared at him dumbfounded holding the skillet. Nothing was wrong. Why would he think something so momentous could possibly be wrong? “Why would your first thought be something is wrong, my dear?” With a broad smile and bright eyes, I proclaimed, “I just flipped my first crepe like Emeril on TV!”
Ken shook his head, frowned, and said, “You know, living with you sometimes can sure be crazy!”
As he turned his chair around to return to the living room, I gave him another kind of Flip — only this time I used my middle finger.