“B? What would you like for breakfast tomorrow?” I asked him as I peeled off layers upon layers of wet everything: socks, pants, shirt, ski gloves, coat. Ahhh, the joys of skiing. All the wet gear that comes after — and not to mention, where to put it all? Lucky for us, we have a nice shower on our Airstream that doubles as a drying room for all of that wet gear. I love that I can hang it all up (extra large suction cup hooks are my best friend in that shower of ours), shut the door and know that the next morning, it will all be dry and ready to go for another round of skiing and snow play.
What a silly question. “Crepes mommy!” — “Then crepes it is,” I replied. “Mommy, I love you so much.” My sweet boy. To make him happy, makes me happy.
Crepes have been a staple in my family for as long as I can remember. My brother and I would stand at either side of my mom at the stove as she would cook up these tender, delicate crepes. We kept intense track of each one with our eagle eyes as she would flip them onto the plate making sure we would have our fair share.
The next morning I whipped these up in no time. We had some leftovers so I happily delivered them to a darling couple we met at the ski park RV lot who are fellow Airstreamers. It was a 1962 Bambi and I was so honored to be able to step inside. What made it even more so special? This Bambi had been passed down from father to son. He said he remembered the many wonderful trips he took with his dad on this Airstream. I think that is just so special to be able to carry on a family tradition in this way.
