So, the sisters and I decided that french toast would be a fun brunch.  I’d mixed the eggs and cinnamon already, put two pieces of soaked bread in the skillet, and asked Leah to grab the syrup.

“There is no syrup!” she tells me.

A last-second Kroger run ensued, and we had our french toast.

I later cleaned out the cabinet, and lo and behold:

Huh.