The Time We Ate Donuts.

When I was young, Dad and I would go out driving together, often in the middle of the night.  As an only child who was often homeschooled, I had plenty of time for such adventures and I always loved spending time with him.  One such night, I think I was about nine years old, we headed out from our home in the country in search of manna from heaven, some people call it Krispy Kreme.  So we hopped in my Dad's 1986 red step-side Chevy pickup, affectionately known as "Little Red", and meandered our way into the city.

As an adult, looking back on this adventure, it probably wasn't too late at night... maybe nine or ten.  It didn't really matter in those days though, because that particular Krispy Kreme was 24 hours "Hot & Now"... may it rest in peace.  Our excursions were where my Dad taught me many of the lessons and much of the wisdom that I attribute to him here along these pages.  Mostly he would talk, and I would listen.  This story, however, is mostly just funny.

Arriving at the donut shop, I watched the donuts being made on the giant conveyor belt as the dough would rise and then be dropped into the fryer to then put on its jacket of sugary sweet glaze.  If you have never had a Krispy Kreme donut, I highly recommend it.  As many folks do, arriving at our journey's end our eyes may have gotten a little bigger than our insulin and we decided to order a dozen of those warm little circles and a couple of pints of milk.

The first one is always heavenly.  It melts in your mouth and offers an almost immediate sugar rush.  And, the second one is just as good.  So, before we knew it, we had eaten nine between us -- five for my Dad and four for me.  We were absolutely miserable.  I remember curling up on that cloth bench seat next to my Dad as he drove thinking that I would surely lose my stomach before we reached home.

Even now, years later, we laugh over this story.  We always reminisce about how much fun we had together laughing and eating donuts... even though it made us sick.  To this day, I don't think I have ever again tried to eat more than two of those things, and I usually stick to one.

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Today is the day my dad starts chemo.  That, too, may make him sick.  If it does, I hope that he remembers our story, maybe he can imagine that the real cause of his ailment is simply too many donuts with his little girl.  Maybe remembering the beautiful times can help him through the difficult ones.

Just because we may be in pain now, doesn't mean our story isn't a good one.