that whenever we spent the night at Grandma’s house, breakfast the next morning would always be pancakes. But not just any pancakes. Oh no. We got to eat animal pancakes. When we were very little, my grandmother would pour the pancake batter into the shapes of monkeys, horses, birds, giraffes, or dinosaurs. When we finally reached the age when we could be trusted to wield the batter cup and not burn our arms off (lol) we got to make our own animal creations. Now whenever I make pancakes for my daughter, I always make her animal ones. It’s just a way of passing on the torch, I suppose. :P