Eight years ago I walked timidly into the Kaehr's home. I knocked on the door while holding a box of pancake mix, a bowl, and a whisk. Taryn's mom brought out the griddle, the orange juice, and even warmed up the syrup.

All of this was an attempt to get the curly haired cheerleader to date me.

Eight years ago I made breakfast, Valentine's morning, hoping to impress my little crush with a breakfast in bed.

It would seem that she was impressed.

And now, eight years later, nothing has changed. I am still making breakfast. And still trying to impress my curly haired cheerleader.

Only now she is my wife and she will be honest if she doesn't like my pancakes.