I came in from my run this morning to find both Satchel and Jiro dressed and ready for breakfast. I usually come in around 7am with just enough time to make lunches before whisking them off to school. Since today is the day before the St. Jude half, we did a two mile "shake out" run rather than our usual four. So it was 6:30am instead of 7am. I looked at Jiro and said, "Wanna go get donuts?"
"YES!" he said as he zipped up his jacket. He loves donuts and usually asks me to get them at least once a week. It's been awhile since he's even asked, so this was a big treat for him.
I turned to Satchel, and he said, "I don't want to do anything Jiro wants to do."
"Okay..." I said. "Want me to just bring you something back?"
"Yes," he grumpily responded.
"Are you guys fighting?" I asked.
"No," he said.
"Okay. Fine. What do you want?" I asked.
"WHAT I ALWAYS GET," he huffed. He knows I don't know what he always gets. Warren and I have an ongoing tiff because I never get his order right. I even have a note in my phone that tells me what his order is. The problem is his use of technical names for donuts rather than common names. Coupled with my inability to remember what he is actually talking about when he says chocolate chocolate cake means his to go order is often wrong.)
"A chocolate glazed?" I asked Satchel.
"YOU KNOW WHAT I LIKE!!"
"WHAT I GOT LAST TIME!" he moaned in utter dispair.
Since I actually just wrote up our last visit to Memphis Donuts I was able to recall that he got a bacon and egg biscuit. By now, he had buried himself under a blanket on the couch, utterly devastated by his mother's lack of concern for his well-being and her inattention to detail. "A biscuit?" I said, hopefully.
"YES!" he said almost in a pleasant sounding whine.
Throughout this dramatic exchange Warren was going back and forth as to whether he wanted a donut, whether I'd be back before he left, and whether I'd actually get the right one. "The chocolate cake donut with the chocolate icing on it," he called after me as Jiro and I started for the door. "Did you hear me?" he called again.
"Yes, chocolate cake with chocolate icing," I replied. I really do actually know what he means now.
And for those of you still reading, yes, I was deeply regretting having offered to do something nice for my family at 6:30am.
Jiro and I piled in the car and headed to Donald's. I was still in my running clothes, which is always the most awesome thing to wear at the donut shop, and was not thrilled to see that there was a long line ahead of us. But, we soldiered on.
Once inside, it was clear that something disastrous had happened. It was smoky and greasy smelling. However, there were still two people drinking coffee and reading the paper, and a whole line of people ordering donuts. Suddenly I was happy not to be dressed for the day because it was clear that the most unpleasant smell in the air was going to stick.
While we were in line, I got the following text from Satchel (in all caps): "I WANT A BISCUIT AND A GLAZED DOUGHNUT."
I showed Jiro, we giggled, and then I replied, "Ok, Sweetie."
We placed our order--a biscuit, a glazed, a chocolate chocolate cake, a glazed twisty and a dozen donut holes. (I did not order anything for myself.) The lady totally gave me an iced chocolate cake instead of a chocolate chocolate, but I caught it. "OH, a DOUBLE chocolate," she said as though I did not live with someone who made donuts for a living in the 80s.
I paid, handed Jiro the bags and headed out the door. By the time we got to the car, Jiro had a fistful of glazed twisty, sprinkles of glaze all over his school uniform, and the biggest grin you ever saw.
Back at home, everyone was pleased with their donuts. However, there was a "What's that smell?" conversation throughout the duration of donut eating. I suggested it might be the smell from the donut shop, but Warren said it smelled more poop like. "Or like maybe something dead," he added. Then Satchel offered that it might be me since I hadn't showered yet.
Warren sniffed the compost and then walked around looking behind the house plants. Finally, he said, "It's the trash can." He made fish last night and the wrappers were still in the can.
"Ew!!!" everyone said as you-know-who took out the trash.
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