Canada watched as his older brother, France, began to mix ingredients together in a bright pink bowl. He tilted his head, reaching his finger in for a bite.
"Non!" France scolded, making the Canadian retreat his hand back with fear. "This wont taste good to you! It's not good unless it's cooked!"
"What are they?" Canada questioned, very curious when he furiously mixed it with the whisk.
"I don't know yet!" France said, winking at him. "I've made them only once before. Maybe you could help me name them? And cook...I think there's something missing!"
A smile formed on Canada's face as he ran across the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of some kind of sauce or something, and ran back to France, putting it in the mix.
"What is that?" France asked as he emptied the bottle.
"Maple-" Canada hiccuped and giggled. "-syrup!"
France watched him take the bottle and throw it away. He poured the mix onto a skillet and cooked them for a while.
Later, he sat Canada at the table and put one on his plate. The little country took a bite. His eyes widened with excitement.
"They taste like cakes!" he stated loudly. "Let's name them 'pancakes!'"
France smiled and hugged him tightly.
"Okay. Pancakes it is!"