What do you call a thick crepe?

What do you call a nervous carrot? An Edgy Veggie.
And what do you call a cat that walks on the sand? Sandy Claws.
What do you call a snowman with a suntan? A Puddle.
What do you call a fish with no eyes? A fsh.
What do you call a really thick Crepe? (see below)

So, Guy went through a phase for the past two weeks in which he pretty adamantly demanded crepes every morning for breakfast (he still is asking, actually).

Here's the recipe I used (from Shelley Hoffmire, who got it from an honest-to-goodness-Frenchwoman):

Put one egg in a glass measuring cup. Add milk to the 1 c. line. Add a dash of salt and 1/2 c. flour. Whisk by hand and cook.

The good news is that I use two non-stick skillets dedicated to crepes, and they peel out so nicely there's no washup required on the pans!

I usually treble the batch so we all can have some. Of course Nutella is the favorite topping, but since it is, after all, primarily chocolate, I usually require that each child eat one crepe filled with something ELSE, like peanut butter, before they get one with Nutella.

I don't mind that Guy gets into food trends. It makes life easier in that one little regard. From the time he was 12 months until somewhere around 3 years old, he had farina (cream of wheat) EVERY morning for breakfast. It was such a relief to NOT have to think of what to make...at least for THAT customer.

I also get into food grooves. Sometimes I want salad every day for lunch for a month. Then I really love peanut butter on celery. Then I cant think of anything better in the world than spaghetti for two straight weeks. This isn't just when I'm pregnant - this is, like, normal operating procedure. When I was in high school, I think I went for 20 straight weeks when I had an orange for breakfast and two for lunch every day (along with other balanced foods.) My mom was so nice to buy oranges. Thanks, mom!

So, the other day, as we were in the kitchen packing lunches, I realized the pancake griddle was still hot from toasting up the quesadillas I'd made for everyone's lunches. Using parental authority, I announced (against Guy's wishes) that we were having pancakes.

After he ate one, he pushed his empty plate over and requested, "Another crepe, please!" I guess old habits die hard.

"Are you sure that first one you ate was a crepe?" I asked with a laugh. He laughed, too.

"Well, mom, your crepes turned out REALLY thick today."