Doughnuts, Cheese and a Flower

I took the boy to Crispy’s doughnut shop this morning.

I was supposed to be sleeping in, but I guess my brain has finally adjusted to the early weekday wake up schedule.

Now, well, it just doesn’t feel right to stay in bed when the sun has already been up and working hard for hours.

So…doughnuts.

Not quite a dozen.

Hand picked box.

One big flaky croissant too.

(Crispy’s makes THE BEST croissants, but you have to get there early if you want one!)

We each ate a doughnut in the car.

The boy likes glazed twists.

I had a chocolate frosted cake doughnut with peanuts – delish.

Husband was still asleep when we got home, so I put the box on the counter for him to find.

I got distracted by some chores down the hall and the little boy went upstairs to play in his room.

A few minutes later, I returned to the kitchen and found a toy truck on the counter.  Uh oh.

And then I looked inside the box.

Poor maple bar.

It never had a chance.

Nice of the boy to leave us the puffy carcass.  😀

Gotta love those crumbs.  Click for a close-up!

Say “cheese!”

P.S.  Look what the husband made happen in our front yard:

Have I told you how much I LOVE that guy? 🙂

Fitting it’s a passion flower.

♥♥

#10 in a series – Things I sorta already knew…

but learned again this month:

  1. The Matrix (or one of its sequels) is always on t.v.  Always.  Always.
  2. My husband is defenseless against a pan of Rice Krispy treats.
  3. I am defenseless against a pan of brownies.  Especially if it’s this recipe and there is whipped cream in the fridge.
  4. If I’m kinda hungry when I take my seat in a crowded community theater, embarrassing noises will come from my gut during the quietest parts of the show.
  5. If I accidentally send an unkind e-mail to the wrong people, those people will be at the same crowded community theater (and probably hear my stomach growling).  And when I see them, they will annoy me and make my flight impulse irresistible.
  6. I’m never going to clean the glass cover on our porch light.
  7. At least twice a week, I get weepy as I’m driving away from my child’s school in the morning.
  8. Sometimes, I miss this cranky, old, cloudy-eyed cat:
  9. Sometimes, I wish we had no cats.
  10. Burger King has veggie burgers and they’re actually kinda tasty.  🙂
  11. Kate Gosselin looks beautiful with longer hair.
  12. The teachers at my son’s school have a great capacity for shocking me.  Like today, when one of them told me that my son doesn’t get recess if he doesn’t bring his homework in on Mondays.  What?  That’s right, my autistic son, a child who thrives on routines and consistency, doesn’t get recess if there is no homework in his backpack…yeah…because he can easily see the relationship between those two things, right?  And he can easily communicate that information to me, right?  Um, no and no.
  13. Life is too short for bad doughnuts.  Go here instead. Or here or here.
  14. McDonald’s has bitter, disgusting iced tea that should not be legal to sell, not as a beverage anyway.
  15. Sometimes I get burned out on Mandarin Dynasty and then, all of the sudden, I can’t stop thinking about the sweet and sour tofu!  And the veggie pot stickers.  Oh my!  You need to go there. I need to go there.
  16. I think I’m unintentionally writing a food blog.  Or maybe I’m just hungry.  For doughnuts and Chinese food.  Chinese doughnuts?
  17. Since I’m a vegetarian, maybe I don’t need to keep this title in my cookbook collection:
     

♥♥

Missing Stories

My dad used to go get doughnuts before I woke up on the weekends.  When I walked sleepily into the kitchen and found them there, my eyes would grow wide with wonder.

“Where did they come from?!” I would ask, peering into the big flat box.

“A bear on a motorcycle brought them!” he would tell me, feigning surprise.

“Really?”  I’d ask.

“Really.”  he’d say.  His eyes would sparkle, but I’d believe him.

As I grew older, I began to poke holes in his story.

How could a bear possibly know how much I loved the little round cinnamon crumb cake?  I had never talked to the bear, but that doughnut was always in the box.

How could a bear possibly carry the doughnuts and ride a motorcycle?  Did he have a special rack on the back just for strapping in pastries?  That seemed unlikely.  Bears were surely too cool for a ride with a rack.

Why did I never hear the motorcycle or see it out the window?  My dad assured me “it was magic, of course, and could never be seen by a child.”  Hmmm.

Where did the bear carry his money?  Did he have a special pocket for keeping the change he took into the doughnut shop?  And why did the shopkeeper never shoo him out?  He was, after all, a bear.

When my suspicions were finally confirmed, I had lost some interest in the magic of fairy tales.  I knew Dad was the bear, Santa and the Tooth Fairy all rolled into one.  (Mom is the Easter Bunny, but that’s another post.)

In my teens, I was a far more skeptical audience for my father’s fables, and yet, he never failed to tell them.  He was an educated man who knew a little bit of everything and he could tell you the truth of it all, but he delighted in the designing of elaborate and fanciful stories all his own.

After I moved away from home, my dad would sometimes call me and leave long complicated tales of this or that on my answering machine.  He would disguise his voice and pretend to be some important businessman with a message I just had to hear.  I sometimes laughed and sometimes rolled my eyes and I think he knew that, but he kept on doing it.

Now that my dad is gone, I wish I could listen to my messages and find him there again.  I miss his commitment to whimsy.

My mom used to say she wanted just one more day with dad, just one more chance to talk about things.  I guess I’d like that day too.  If I got it, I don’t think I’d bother with unfinished business.  I wouldn’t ask him what he thought of me or tell him what I thought of him.  I wouldn’t try to right any wrongs or smooth any wrinkles.  No.  None of that.

If I could see my dad again, I think I’d just buy us some doughnuts and ask him for a story.