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It’s Not About the Donut

10/03/2013

Our mornings are a little bit time challenged, not because the boy and I spend a lot of time getting ready, rather because we like to sit on the couch and think about our day for a long time before we actually do our day. We read, we watch important shows like Word Girl and Arthur, and we close our eyes for longer than is necessary while we wish for a little more couch time. Then the time comes for me to frantically throw clean clothes to the boy over the railing of the stairs, load up the car with bags and lunches, and threaten to leave without him if he does not get dressed. It’s how we do. But sometimes, little dude gets up really early, and tires of couch time way before it’s time to leave for school. On those mornings, we have donut day.

We go to Donut Bistro to consider all of the delicious possibilities. We walk in and breathe the sweet smell of flour, sugar, oil and frosting, frosting, frosting. I get a faint scent of coffee mixed in, while Tommy probably imagines he can smell the apple juice he will wash his donut down with. He looks at all of the choices, carefully considering rainbow sprinkles versus glazed versus cinnamon/sugar dipped. I consider the possiblitiy that for once I will skip the donut, and then quickly abandon that plan. I mean, don’t let’s get crazy.

The last time we went to the donut shop, the little dude picked a glazed donut and an apple juice. We sat at the table, watching the world rush in for their quick “just put whatever variety you want in the box” dozens and dozens. Through our booth window, we could see traffic buzzing by, the morning sun peeking above the trees on the horizon, and a construction worker carrying three dozen donuts to the car of an older woman who requested help out but could not receive it from the employee who couldn’t leave the counter and her customers.

The boy ate his donut, cracking the glaze and licking his lips, as he explained that he was saving his apple juice for school, but not his donut, since sweet breakfasts are not allowed. After three bites, he was done and ready to throw the donut away. He looked at me like he might be in trouble for wasting food. I only smile.

“You sure?”

“Ya, it’s too sticky.”

“Ready to go to school then?”

“Yep.”

He slides out of the booth and grabs his juice, and as I follow his little Converse feet and swim trunk clad legs out, I want to squeeze him up so much. I could have decided it was a waste of money, throwing the donut away, and told him so. Maybe someone else would view it as a waste of time, coming here to only eat a few bites. But these trips are not about the donuts. They are about Tommy and I spending time together, appreciating the little things. They are about the way the sweet aroma of bakery hits your body and soul when you walk into the shop, and all that possibility in donut choices. We get to pick whatever we want for only a few bucks. There is something so nice about taking a minute to watch the world rush by as you sit in the moment – kind of a vacation feeling, on a Tuesday of a regular work week. So it’s not about donuts, although I enjoyed mine. It’s about the time and the moment.

Reading: Be Here Now by Eckhart Tolle

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3 Comments leave one →
  1. Heather permalink
    10/03/2013 4:09 pm

    I love it! Those are wonderful moments and should be enjoyed to the fullest. You are an amazing mom and he is a sweet sweet boy!

  2. Angi permalink
    10/08/2013 4:48 pm

    I love the way you view the world.

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