In the endless quest to create memorable from the mundane, we changed up our breakfast routine since the school day was on a 90-minute delay. Because it was something like -87 degrees outside.
We would go to the grocery store, everybody could pick out their own breakfast item from the bakery, and then we would have varieties of steamed liquid chocolate at the Starbucks inside the store.
Plus, I had nothing for lunches and I was out of all kids’ meds, so you know… that whole two birds with one stone thing. Lunchables anyone? Children’s Motrin? And oh, look! Donuts!
While Tyler and I went to the pharmacy department, Tuck went to the bakery. He wanted to surprise us with a fun variety. I reminded him to use the tissue papers, don’t touch any donuts with his fingers, and ask for help if he needed it. When I met him at the bakery, he was packing donuts into his second box.
“Tuck! Woah! What’s happening here?”
“I wanted to surprise you.”
“How many donuts did you get?”
“Lovey, how many of us are there?”
“There are three of us, but I wanted us to have leftovers.”
(God, please give us all the self discipline to guarantee leftovers with a ratio of 8 donuts per person.)
“It’s too much, buddy. It’s too many.” And yet, what can I do? Tissue paper or not, these dozens of donuts had been man-handled. I would now be buying them.
“I’m sorry, Mommy. I just really wanted to surprise you.”
“Well, thank you, Tuck. I am for sure surprised.”
My instructions weren’t literal enough. Not enough details. Perameters. Limitations. An amateur mistake.
And so, as a surprise to us all, we treated the elementary faculty and staff to a treasury of donuts this morning.