I'm the kind of person who skips to the conversation when reading a book.
A week or so ago I was out with Grace. Sometimes, when I’m out with just one child, we do something a little special. On this day, we stopped at Dunkin’ Donuts.
“Look,” I said, stopping in front of the big menu at the drive-thru, “they have special donuts for Valentine’s Day. Want a heart-shaped donut?”
“Sure,” she said. Grace actually likes just about any kind of donut.
“It looks like you have a choice, chocolate frosting or pink frosting,” I said, looking at the picture, not reading the description.
“Definitely pink,” she said. I was not surprised.
“It’s everything I ever wanted,” Grace replied, licking a glob of custard filling out of the middle.
I laughed. “Everything you ever wanted?” I repeated back to her, smiling, but questioning.
“I’m serious, Mom,” she said. “This is everything I ever wanted in a donut. It’s got strawberry frosting, the same filling as a Boston Creme doughnut, and sprinkles.”
Grace has always been a sprinkles kind of girl.
Last night I stopped at Dunkin’ Donuts with Hannah. We had had a harrowing drive on some slick wintry roads and I wanted a cup of coffee for the ride home.
It’s still February, I thought. Maybe I can get Grace another perfect donut.
Alas, they had moved on from that promotion. We brought an assortment home, including a donut with pink frosting and sprinkles and a Boston Creme donut. Sitting them side-by-side failed to merge them into one quintessential donut. Poor Grace.
At least she had once had that one perfect moment of eating the perfect donut.
It was everything she ever wanted… in a donut.