This was the excuse he gave Mac just now when his youngest son asked for "pancakes daddy, with lemon 'n' sugar". I had to retrieve myself from my sick bed (okay, the sofa) where I have been residing since the Wedding That Never Was with mother-in-law induced stress. More to follow on that subject.
So. Although David had been helpful enough to mix up the batter, it was I standing outside getting the pan at the right temperature and pouring in enough batter (but not too much - thick pancakes are "yucky" apparently) and flipping said half cooked batter with gay abandon.
As all the tossing and typing has worn me out enough for me to doze on the sofa until Eastenders starts, I've left David with the washing up. And scraping half cooked pancake off of my cooker hood.
Bea is coming to see me tomorrow with her homeopath and reflexologist - wish me luck!