A Tale of Two Pancakes

I made perfect pancakes this morning. Golden brown, not burnt, plate sized and perfectly round, these were pancakes to be remembered. So I ate them.
Arranged neatly next to my eggs, accompanied by my pulpilicious orange juice, I couldn't help but admire this perfection of a Breakfast Trifecta.

Now this may not sound like some major achievement, but it is. I've been burning ruining making pancakes since I was 7 years old. No one ever supervised me... I just followed the directions on the box. In the beginning I thought it perfectly normal to eat my pancakes to the sound of the smoke detector.
Since then, my pancakes have been nearly perfect. Misshapen yet delicious, stacked from largest to smallest - what was lacking? It's simple.

Love.

These pancakes were the first pancakes I have made since I've been in love. They were worthy of the cover of Pancakes Weekly magazine. Coincidence? You decide. I think it's fairly obvious.