Michael D. Davis

It is extremely apparent that one of the things that I inherited from my parents is the predilection to go in waves of things. Today I’m all about this over here, and next week I’m all about that over there, it comes, it goes, it happens.

So, about a month or two ago late at night, half asleep, I bought a skull resin mold online. I don’t know why, I had, at the time, no resin to mold. Anyway, the mold comes in the mail, and I figure I should get some resin. I buy some resin and I make a really cool looking skull. Since then, I’ve used the resin to partially make a bowl, make a small tabletop, and fuse a plastic cup to a folding table forever.

My Ma and my sister see I’m into this so they start getting me molds to make new and different things. Now, it’s been a couple of weeks and I haven’t done anything with resin, but I have all these molds now. I will use them eventually, I swear, I’ve just been busy with other things, but you see, it comes and it goes. I go through phases.

Some of the hobbies my father has been into over the years include knife making, glass bottle cutting, ring making, ring box making (but that was only the once), rock gun making, making birdhouses out of gourds, and slide rule collecting. And that’s just a couple. There is one, so horrid that it brings a shiver to my back just to think about it because he always made me and my sister help him with it. The dreaded rope making. I’m not prepared to tell that story today, maybe next week.

My Ma is the same way, going through phases, but as she loves to cook and bake, her phases are mostly food related. The best one, or should I say, the most delicious one, was the pancakes. This was several years ago.

I don’t know what happened, what clicked, or what snapped inside my mother’s brain, but all of a sudden she wanted pancakes. Now, that may sound innocent enough, but then it was pancakes all the time. Almost every meal, pancakes.

She had ready made pancakes for the toaster. She would make extra pancakes at dinner and then put them in a dish in the fridge to heat up later. They were her emergency pancakes. It could have been three in the morning and my ma would have been eating a pancake. Granted, she always shared and it was a great time.

Honestly, I have no room to talk, like I said I’m the same way, but you know, I’ve just never heard anybody else ever having an emergency pancake. And that’s not to be confused with my ma’s emergency banana that she keeps in her purse, but again, that’s a whole different story.