18 December 2007
I give you my friend, Donut.
I've thought about this on occasion: what are the things in this life that I cannot resist? And I'm not talkin' about stuff like breathing and water, I'm talking about things one does not need to survive or even be somewhat comfortable. What luxuries can I never pass up? I've come up with just one: the donut. If I see a donut, I will eat it. Well, except those nasty raspberry-filled abominations--we'll be eating those in hell, I suspect. Aside from those, I love me some donuts. I can pass up candy, chocolate, cookies, cake, soda pop, chips, fries, and any other thing you can think of that will kill us all. But the donut? No. The Husband, good as he is, knows of my weakness for these tasty patries and brings them home on a somewhat regular basis. If he buys a dozen, he knows by now that he will never get six of them. He also seems OK with this fact, which only makes the addiction to their glazed and chocolatey caked goodness more aggressive. Truly, your method of donut production has to be considerably poor for me to refuse consumption of your product. My friend (who recently moved away, the jerk) gave me a dozen donuts for my birthday this year. I don't think even she understood the magnitude of such a thoughtful gift. Sure, we'd had conversations about our mutual love for donuts before, but had it really sunk in that I LOVE donuts? You all just have no idea.
Yes, I blog about donuts. At least I blogged about my children first.