This is What Happens...

when mom's sick, Dylan's at school and Dad has the day off from work:


Isaac gets to eat donuts and drink chocolate milk. Lucky boy.


I really should mention my aversion to donuts. And aversion is putting it lightly. I absolutely hate them. Not even a warm, fresh Krispy Kreme donut.

When I was young my dad used to take us girls out early on Saturday mornings to Winchell's Donuts. He was a secret shopper for their stores. I'm not exaggerating when I say that we would sometimes visit 10-15 different stores. Each time we needed to buy something. Whether it was a muffin, or a dozen donuts or a cup of coffee or any sort of combination thereof, we bought something at each location. There were plenty of times when we would offer the hot coffee to someone we found living on the streets, and usually hand off a dozen donuts too. But it never failed, each Saturday we came home with multiple dozens of donuts. And we ate them all week long.

We did this at least once a month, and sometimes more often, but donuts seemed to be a constant in our oven (because they stayed fresher, longer, in the oven). Of course, when you eat all donuts all the time, they begin to lose their luster. And for me, there is no turning back. Even the smell of donuts makes me a little ill.

In high school, we'd have early morning seminary at the church before our regular high school classes began and it was customary on Friday mornings for our teachers to bring in donuts. I would make all the kids sit outside of the car and eat their donuts before they were allowed in to get a ride to school. I just couldn't handle the smell of them. Gross.

Now, I shouldn't say I feel this way about all donuts. That would be untrue. There is one exception. And only one. On occasion I have a hankering for the small 6-count packages of Hostess donuts that are sold in the gas stations. Only the powdered sugar, and only on occasion. But those are good.

Because of this aversion, donuts don't ever come into my house. Well, rarely come into my house. I feel about donuts the way Todd feels about eggs. I don't want to smell them. You can eat them in the house, just make sure I'm nowhere around. So, my kids don't get donuts. Not usually. Isaac had his first donut on Dylan's first day of school. He and I went grocery shopping after I dropped Dylan off and to keep him happy, I gave him his first donut. He was two and he thought he had died and gone to heaven.

Apparently Todd is trying to make up for it because now, even our kids know where the local Dunkin Donuts is and they call for donuts each time we drive by. I just gently remind them that it's dad's treat, not mine. There's nothing like some quality time with a dad in a donut shop. I've got my memories, and they'll have theirs.