“Henry, do you want some breakfast, my man?”
I am standing at the kitchen island, trying to get to the coffeemaker before the onslaught of Kiddie Breakfast begins, but I can hear Violet coming down the steps and I know damn well that I am running out of time.
He looks at me and flings his binky about eight feet across the room, smiling.
“OTAAAAY,” he exclaims, which, in case you don’t know, is ‘okay’ in Hank-Talk.
“Cool, I figured you did. Pancakes?”
He grins at me, oblivious that there was a question aimed his way.
“Henry, do you want pancakes?” I stretch it out real nice and easy for him to understand.
“OTAAAAY!,” he tells me. “Mmmmmm! Pantakes!”
I admire his agreeable nature from across the room as I stick a couple of frozen flapjacks in the microwave. I tell him as much, too.
“I like how you’re a YesMan, little buddy. Do you know that? Daddy likes that you are cool with whatever.”
Click here to continue reading The Ballad of Hank The Tank Part 4.
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