April 30th, 2012

The donut shop

I hadn’t realized how long it had been since I went to that donut shop.
The last time, I waddled into it pulling up my yoga pants still in that post- yoga calm.

You had many of those chocolate bar donuts before you were born, Wonder Boy.
Each week after my pregnancy yoga class I would come to grab breakfast for Mr. Wonder and his coworker, grabbing a sausage croissant sandwich or breakfast burrito.
All those months and years ago, I had routines set in my time waiting for you.
I often grabbed a chocolate bar, sometimes a cinnamon roll, savoring the empty delicious calories.
The smell from the sausage always made me a little nauseous, so I would drive the next few blocks with a window open.
That’s what you do for love.

Today you did your first trip to get daddy that special breakfast and got to pick out your donut for the first time.
Except you were too busy falling off a chair and bumping your head so I picked out a sprinkled one.
You picked off the sprinkles first, hesitant.

Then you dug in, enthralled by the workers coming in for a morning snack- business suits next to dirty jeans, all answering your call of “Hey man!” with pleasant greetings and warm smiles.

I’ve learned you’re the kind of kid that dives into the frosting first- cupcakes, donuts, cookies.
What doesn’t end up on your face and fingers is first to go in, and cake is just a means of delivery.
But licking frosting off your fingers is like dessert.

Sorry, son. I think I created your sweet tooth through my own addiction.