Picking out the flavors meant a different one for each child. That way their siblings would not likely eat the ones that each individual preferred. E., the oldest girl, liked white frosting with colored sprinkles. M., the oldest boy, liked chocolate frosting with chopped nuts. T., the youngest girl, liked lemon creme filled, and F., the youngest boy wanted maple frosting and a few of the dozen donut holes, free with an order of two dozen. I liked the vanilla creme filled donuts and Dad like white coconut on white frosting. So the order was, naturally, for two dozen.
With everyone gone, I got a bit of quiet time to set the table with dessert plates, glasses of cold milk, OJ or cups of cocoa, and lots of paper napkins. Donuts for little guys are sticky and bound to end up on church clothes if we had waited too late. In any case, there were glazed donuts with coffee after the service in the parish hall.
We do not go out and buy boxes of donuts any more, I say sadly, as they are so not-good-for-us. But this morning we were craving them. This vicarious return to those old times, in a little piece of prose, is what I am giving myself as a substitute. And this Father's Day our youngest son dropped in early with a box of donuts in hand. It was just like those old times. Good times!
See also "Behind the Links."
Blogs: My news and political blog is at South by Southwest. My general purpose/southwest focus blog is at Southwest Progressive. And Carol Gee - Online Universe is the all-in-one home page for my websites.
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