Pancakes for Breakfast

Pancakes for Breakfast

Mike filled his water bottle, putting it with the food he’d gathered. He started packing his backpack for the long bike trip.

He had a small first aid kit. He was pretty sure he was supposed to have rope in there too, but had no idea why, and he didn’t have any anyway. His sweater, in case it got cold.

He looked around, a little sadly in the dim morning light, sighed and walked out the door. Stopping to put on his sweater because it was already cold, he wondered if he ought to go back and grab his jacket. Instead, he sat down on the step.

A minute later his ears picked up the morning whistling of Grandad coming into the kitchen. Not wanting to get caught, he got up. But Grandad must have seen him, and he called him in.

“Running away are ya?” he asked.

Surprised, Mike just said, “Yes.”

“Where are you gonna live?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe you ought to figure that out first, you know, so you know which way to go.”

“Oh,” Mike said, “Good idea” and he sat down at the table.

“You know, I broke my mother’s favorite lamp once. I probably shoulda run away too, but I wasn’t as brave as you. I just did extra work for a few weeks and my mother let me stay, and you know what?”

“What?”

“She said she was glad I stayed. Cause she loved me more than that lamp. Who knew!”

“You think I ought to try that?”

“Well, since you don’t know where you’re going yet, might as well, you know, till you make a real plan. You want some of these pancakes?

“Yes, please.”

From the hallway, Mike’s mom blew kisses to her Dad, before she hurried back to bed.