Howdy,

“It’s always a mistake.”

You’re probably not thinking about what I’m going to write about.

What the mistake is …

It’s donuts.

You know it, they, aren’t good for you.

That’s what you know. But not what you think.

What you think is, that sounds delicious; that smells tasty; that looks amazing. Those look amazing.

It’s a mistake.

But it sounds so sweet …

“It’s always a mistake.”

The quotation marks have been used because that’s my wife’s line.

A line sometimes used to keep from eating a donut — or more likely to help keep me from eating a donut. Sometimes as a reminder for a better try next time, after the sweet turns hollow inside. Which tends to be quickly.

Nonetheless — and undeterred even knowing how we think about such things — I ventured, strayed, into a donut shop today. To treat the boys.

It was to treat the boys. And they do find it a treat. Sugarcoated, admittedly, isn’t best for them but the calories don’t touch them — so they don’t have to worry what they aren’t thinking or don’t know about donuts, at least not the way we I do.

The boys just enjoy them.

Titus went for the stage usual: SPRINKLES!!! … and the more colors the better, including a bedding of pink frosting. Frosting, or glaze? Thick enough (and bright enough) to seem like frosting. A very refined (three-year-old) taste.

Jasper surprised me a bit. Turning his six-year-old’s back on sprinkles, he graduated to a full-sized maple bar.

And ate the whole thing.

Cueing … They grow up so fast!

(Gone are the days of only licking off the sprinkled frosting, before disposing of “the fuzzy stuff.” At least, for today. FULL DISCLOSURE: I believe “the fuzzy stuff” originated with cupcakes, not donuts, and in conjunction with, or by, cousin Lizzy. Either way, it’s great. And if it were Lizzy, it’s “I-ther way.” She’s seven, and she knows her stuff.)

I selected a raspberry-filled donut and “worked through” the fuzzy stuff to get to the straight sugar. Could you call THAT a mistake?

It’s always a mistake.

My wife’s right.

If nothing else, this is my alibi for not bringing one home for her.

That, and she didn’t respond to my text: “Want a donut?”

 

Billy

Reading. Writing. Living.

Word Count: 76,970 / On Pace: 87,450 / Year’s Goal: 200,000


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