I miss making pancakes with my dad and putting a bunch of molasses on them. I would make a joke about the great molasses flood and he would get angry at me because “it was a serious tragedy and people died” and I wouldn’t take him seriously because imagine dying in a tidal wave of fucking molasses. Your horse? Gone. Drowned in molasses. Your house? Molasses. Your family? Dead. Suffocated by delicious pancake treat molasses. This was my 9/11.