The Power of Glaze

Who would have thunk it??? The power of the fryer, and oil, and bread, topped off with a rich puddle of hig fuctose corn syrup, sugar, magic powder, and other fatty items that your mamma would turn in her grave if she saw you downing a few handfuls before, after, or during supper...well...I had a little idea!

On my way home I stopped off at the video store to check on a flick, when it hit me like a mack truck...the simple whif of glaze. I'll admit it, I was powerless to its fatal attraction. I could not run. I could not hide. The sweet smell of fat on fat caught my nostrils and had entranced all my senses drawing me closer like a moth to the flame. I was trapped. I tried to escaped, but nearly cracked my skull after having slipped on my own saliva. Wouldn't that be a headline, "Family sues after a poor, humble. podcaster and Father of three slips and falls on own saliva drawn from the smell of a nearby donut shop" page two would be about some lady sueing for hot coffee.

Any-who...I paid for the box of heaven-sent goodness and breathed in the aroma all the way home. I carried it like a trophy into my castle announcing to the neighborhood, that I, master and commander hath brought home for my family, glazed donuts. After dinner, we ripped into the box like we were digging for...well, glazed donuts. It was great. my eldest son began a canga line, and the other two boys followed in line. What was I going to do...disappoint them. No, I say. I grabbed my fourth or fifth (you tend to forget as your heart goes into a sugar coma) and started chanting the lovely song, "Donuts, donuts, doooooonuts" as we marched around the kitchen table in laughter - chugging the milk, chomping another bite of perfect goodness (which I truly believe God had allowed us to create for us to endure such things as...Mondays, Sunday drivers, and instances when the local Walgreens runs out of stock on the only true to form candy: Black Forrest Gummie Bears) and circling my wife who was shaking her head, which I think was nothing more than self-pity for her not joining us in our crusade for that which is Holy and pure...the glazed donut. Why else would my own wife not join us, unless she too was trying to survive in The World Gone Mad?