On Sunday, Leo decided to make breakfast. Not just any breakfast, but one that Mia would talk about all week.
He placed a small vase of flowers on the table, pulled out a nice plate, and confidently tackled the pancakes.
The first pancake stuck to the pan. The second folded into a triangle. For some reason, the third resembled a map of an uncharted island.
When Mia peeked into the kitchen, Leo was standing in front of the plate with the expression of a man who had just lost high-stakes negotiations.
— Is this breakfast or an archaeological dig? — she asked.
— This is artisan cuisine. Every single piece is one of a kind.
Mia laughed and reached for the spatula.
— Let me help.
— No, — Leo said. — I wanted to surprise you.
She paused. There was no resentment in her voice, just mild annoyance: he tried so hard, yet it turned out nothing like he had imagined.
— Does a surprise have to be perfect? — Mia asked.
Leo looked at the burnt edge of the latest pancake.
— It's preferred that it's at least edible.
They tried one. Then another. The edible one turned out to be the third, the very same island. Mia solemnly declared it a new continent and named it Leoland.
Ten minutes later, they were cooking together. Leo poured the batter, Mia flipped the pancakes. Sometimes they got even circles, sometimes funny clouds. And nobody tried to save the morning from imperfection anymore.
When breakfast finally made it to the table, the flowers were slightly leaning, a small jam spot remained on the tablecloth, and a whole mountain of uneven pancakes lay on the plate.
— You know, — Mia said, — I really loved your surprise.
— Even the first batch?
— Especially that one. Otherwise, we never would have discovered Leoland.
Leo smiled. He had set out to give her a picture-perfect morning, but got something much better: a morning they truly made their own.
Sometimes we try so hard to put together an ideal celebration for our loved ones that we forget to ask what they actually want. And often, they need very little: for us to be there, to laugh at our mistakes, and not be afraid to ask for help.
Love doesn't require flawless table settings. Sometimes its most familiar picture is two people in the kitchen, one flipping a pancake, the other catching it with a plate.
And both are happy, even if the pancake lands in the wrong spot again.