Heptadecagon

Like many things in life, I prefer my pancakes a certain way. I've talked about this before , long ago, on a Saturday morning when I ran by a house that smelled just like Saturday morning did at my house as a kid. I told you then about the pancakes my dad made almost every weekend. Because I run on Saturdays, I tend to cook pancakes during the week. And because we consume far healthier fare now than we did when I was a child, I don't load them with butter, like my dad did. Instead, I prefer to have a tender pancake, not too dry, not too sweet. One that hits the spot in terms of carbohydrates, but doesn't induce a sugar coma. Have I actually achieved that goal? Not when I use a pre-made mix. But in a pinch, my pancakes pass muster. And of course, as I am wont to do, thinking of pancakes and how I prefer them made me think of so many other things -- more profound things (if the word thing can be thought of as profound). Is the way I prefer my pancakes indicative of who I am...