I was standing at the kitchen counter with a glass of red wine in one hand and a Krispy Kreme doughnut with Key Lime filling in the other. My husband was laughing at me. I didn’t care.
I started a new job that was full-time in the office instead of part-time at home. I was working really hard. I was tired. I needed a treat.
I couldn’t decide on a glass of wine or the last doughnut, so I decided on both, together.
I had taken one bite of the doughnut. It was amazing. So sweet and creamy and satisfying. So worth every last calorie.
Then I heard my three-year-old girl come inside. With the speed and accuracy of professional spy, she spotted the doughnut on the counter.
Our girls don’t have treats during the week and my husband and I don’t eat treats in front of them during the week, so my husband tried to think fast.
“That’s an old doughnut, sweetie. Mommy was going to throw it away,” he said.
My daughter, trying to be helpful, took the doughnut off the counter, walked to the trashcan, and threw it away. Then she went back outside.
My husband laughed.
So, yes, I’m not ashamed to admit it, I did what you are thinking I might have done.
I went to the trash can, opened the lid and reached in for that one last, sweet, creamy, satisfying doughnut.
But it was not to be. The doughnut had landed on top of old, wet food.
Some days you can’t even enjoy your wine and doughnut in peace.
So I poured myself a double glass of wine and smiled a little. There will be other doughnuts. And I’ll always have this memory of my helpful little girl.