Yesterday morning I woke up and really wanted a donut. I didn't have any donuts. I fixed myself a cup of coffee, and stood in the kitchen contemplating whether I wanted a donut bad enough to get dressed and go buy donuts.
Then I remembered we had cake. R had made a birthday cake for a co-worker (yes, all by himself!), and he brought what was left home. There was one piece left.
Really, is cake any different from a donut? I mean, when you consider the ingredients and nutritional value, or lack thereof, what's the difference?
And when there is only one piece of cake left, why dirty a spatula and a plate?
So I sat down at the coffee table in my pajamas with my coffee, a cake pan, and a fork. And right at that moment, R walked in.
He cracked up laughing and asked if he could take a picture of that.
I told him no. He took it anyway, and no, I'm not posting it.
But this morning, when I rolled out of bed, lo and behold, he'd gotten donuts. So, I guess I'll forgive him for the photo.
Meet Hank, the Valley Bulldog
3 days ago