Every Thursday, while Alexis practices flipping through the air at gymnastics class, Mila and I sneak away to Dunkin' Donuts. We would stay and watch the flipping, but it's far too crowded and impossible to find the Big Kid in the midst of the chaos, so donuts are better.
Way better.
We find our way to the inside of the Dunkin' Donuts because I need to lay eyes on my prey in order to select it. But no worries, I move in for the kill very quickly. I have a hierarchy of donuts that is thoroughly developed. That means that I know I'm starting with Boston Creme and working my way through Chocolate Frosted before landing on Sour Cream. I'm fine with whichever of the three I get, but my preference goes in that order.
While I'm at it, I grab a jelly donut for the husband, something with apple filling for Alexis, and Mila gets a blueberry donut. There's no hierarchy of preferences for the crew. If Dunkin' has what they want, great. If not, I skip it.
Donut trips are about me, clearly.
There's a weird thing that happens every Thursday, though. I crash into the store, all ready to rattle off my choices, but I always end up behind someone who isn't ready. Every. Single. Week. There's always a group of people who are together and who can't decide between a half dozen or a dozen donuts. Thank goodness they don't realize they can buy 8 or 9 donuts because the choices would drive them to madness.
Once they settle on the quantity, they spend ten minutes trying to select flavors. Which, whatever. It confuses me when people don't have a plan by the time they're at the front of the line, but let's just pretend the indecision isn't dumb. I mean, it is, because all donuts are delicious and there are no losers in this game, but whatever. Be indecisive. I can wait.
Nervously.
Possibly sweating a little as I silently will the people to stay away from that last one that I need.
It always happens, you know? There's ONE LAST Boston Creme and you want it. You are ready to commit yourself to a fabulous relationship, but standing in the way is that person who isn't sure what they're looking for in a donut relationship.
"Maybe ... ummmmm ... can I have the .... " the order takes days to complete. The whole time they are pausing, you stand there muttering, "The Boston Creme is mine, bitch." Or maybe it's just me that does that. Regardless, there you are ready to commit and they're still thinking about dating. And yet! They can stop you from touching your beloved!
Tonight the people in front of us took the last blueberry donut. Indeed, they stole the baby's donut with her sitting right there looking at it.
I was sad for Mila.
But not THAT sad because I got what I wanted.
I'll be sure to make it up to Mila in the morning. By then I will have forgotten that I bought donuts and will be all surprised when there are some on the kitchen table. It'll be great.