THE JELLY DONUT

THE JELLY DONUT

A cranky re-run…sort of

This story was in my first book, part of my attempt to be an actual writer.  It is still available on Amazon, but don’t waste your money.  It was in a chapter about my children.  My daughter recently told me she was having a donut tasting test at the various establishments in her town and might blog about it.  I felt this might be a good time to post this story.

One Saturday morning, when Mary Beth was six-years-old, I went to the local 7-11 and bought six jelly donuts; one tasty pastry for each member of the family with one left over. 

I left the special breakfast treats to my delighted children’s excitement to go and walk the dog.  All during the walk, I was looking forward to relaxing with a cup of coffee and a jelly donut (maybe even two).  On my return, I found only one donut was left.

“Who had two donuts?” I inquired. 

Mike and Matt quickly threw their sibling under the bus. 

“Mary Beth.”  

A bit upset at her gluttony I raced upstairs to confront the culprit, Mike and Matt following close behind.  Mary Beth was not to be found, no doubt hiding from my expected admonishment.

When I returned to the kitchen, the last of the precious donuts was missing!

“Mary Beth!” I screamed with rising rage. 

“Ummfft” came the reply from the laundry room downstairs. 

I quickly raced downstairs yelling,

 “Mary Beth, did you take that last donut?” 

“Nooft” came the muffled response. 

When I finally encountered the little felon, her face was covered in powdered sugar as she continued to feign innocence. 

As angry as I was, with the sight of this pitiful little girl pleading innocence with a mouth full of pastry and donut DNA all over her face, it was all I could do to keep from laughing.  I am afraid that at the tender age of six the only lesson Mary Beth learned from this incident was the power of being cute.