Goodbye to Mickey Mouse pancakes

I use to spend the week looking forward to Saturday mornings. Out of bed by 6, glass of chocolate milk, and classic cartoons featuring Road Runner and Yosemite Sam. My grandpa would wake up and ask me what I wanted for breakfast, as if the answer was going to be different that time. I always replied, with a huge smile on my face, "Mickey Mouse pancakes!!!" Such a delicious breakfast that was guaranteed to make anyone who ate it happy for the rest of the day. With blueberries and whipped cream as the eyes, and a banana cut into a long, curved slice for the mouth, it was almost too awesome to eat. I had conversations with Mickey on these mornings, since everyone else was still asleep, and he helped me decide what to do that day, and really helped me with my problems. By problems, of course, I mean like whether to wear my blue or green shirt that day. Mickey Mouse pancakes really livened up my childhood.
Now that I'm older, I'm not allowed to have Mickey Mouse pancakes anymore. It hurts to go to a restaurant and see Mickey hanging out on the kids menu, for 12 and under. I can't pass off as 12 anymore, and being 18, would be judged to even attempt to order off of the child's menu. My grandpa has long since passed, and Mickey sort of died with him. My dad won't even make me Mickey Mouse pancakes anymore, and it makes me feel as if I've lost a part of me. A part of my childhood is gone. I know if my grandpa was still alive, he would wake up to find me watching Saturday morning cartoons and ask me the same old question, not even thinking about my age. "What do you want for Breakfast?"
"Mickey Mouse pancakes!!!"
I miss you Mickey Mouse pancakes. Saturdays just aren't the same without you!