When I was a kid, my mother worked Saturdays, only Saturdays, which meant that dad got to spend all day with his girls. My sister and I would wake up and stampede down into the basement to watch Saturday morning cartoons. Still in our jammies, we would laugh at Looney Toons, giggle at Garfield and snicker at Smurfs. Eventually, our dad would come down the stairs and announce that we would be going to Bent's Red Fox, the local grocery store. (I use the singular form of the word because there was only one grocery store in the town I grew up in.)
A trip to Bent's meant only one thing: doughnuts. My dad would let my sister and me pick out three of four doughnuts each. He would add to it to make it a round dozen. Then we'd head home to finish our cartoon binge-watching and gorge ourselves on sugar.
I don't hold it against my dad for our weekly treats, either. Our Saturday morning doughnuts were the few sugary things that came into our house when I was a kid. It was more of a bonding experience between a father and his daughters more than anything. I'm sure that if we were living in today's world (and somewhere other than a town with a population of 1200) we would have been eating gluten free scones or something.
Even though I don't take my kids out for doughnuts, I still allow for a doughnut every so often, like twice a year (and only for myself, not for the kids). One of those instances happened yesterday.
A Boston Creme, fist-sized, covered in chocolate icing and filled with vanilla pudding became my sweet indulgence for the morning. I am still buzzing from the sugar high as I write this 24 hours later. I also bought a small coffee to cut through the sugar as I ate it. I sat in the car listening to NPR, thinking back to my childhood days of delighting in doughnuts. Thanks, dad, you taught me how to enjoy this infrequent indulgence.
Boston Creme and small Coffee and NYDB- $4.00
Balance this pay cycle- $96.00
Happy Spending!
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