Donuts
There are a few who know me and know what donuts mean to me. Donuts (or doughnuts, if you prefer) are a transcendental experience for me. Spiritual, almost. I asked for them for mothers day. Keep your stupid jewelry, give me donuts!
As a kid, for my birthday my dad would wake me up early and take me to breakfast. At a donut shop. Probably the highlight of my childhood memories. Next to my pink bubble yum gum radio controlled jeep.
I remember learning that you could make faux donuts by deepfrying refrigerator biscuits. And then some years later learning that Chinese buffets employ this technique from coast to coast. I fully intend to perfect the homemade donut, it’s a life persuit I’m determined to achieve. And I get chills at the thought of Ella someday soon being woken up early on her birthday and whisked away to a tiny donut shop and plied with a brilliant Boston cream. No, not chills…tears. I’m tearing up right now at the thought. Geeze.
As a teenager, my friends and I indulged in some online role playing games. My character? A cross between Indiana Jones and Devlin Buchanan. And my character was OF COURSE obsessed with Donuts.
Wonder no more why my cell’s ringtone has been and forever will be the Indiana Jones theme song.
Donuts are an important part of my life, albeit not as plentiful as I would prefer. I dream of opening the perfect donut shop. Everywhere I have ever lived, I’ve said “I’d love to open a donut shop here.” because the need is SO PRESSING.
Think long and hard about your commitment to donuts, because today is national donut day.
Don’t squander that donut.