Dirty Donut

My daughters like to eat.  In fifteen years when they stumble upon this hidden electronic file and are appalled that their own mother referred to them as fatties…….let me set the record straight right now.  They are not fat…….however, they are able to eat enough for three grown men in one sitting.  And if you think I’m joking, I’m not.  Feel free to take them out to eat.  Better yet, I’ll just give you my grocery bill.

Proof in their food obsession can be found one night a couple weeks ago when my three-year-old made her way into my bed in the middle of the night.  (Oh, how I love this recent development.)  Anyway, she woke up at one point yelling at the top of her lungs, “MOMMY, WE NEVA ATE BWEAKFAST”!  I immediately told her that it was still dark out and that we’d eat breakfast in the morning.  She immediately followed with “MOMMY, WE NEVA ATE DINNA”!  I then mumbled off our dinner time meal that night of chicken, rice, veggies and a roll.  She huffed in dissatisfaction.

I hunkered down two minutes later, thinking the series of midnight outbursts was complete, when out of the dark came “MOMMY, CAN WE GO MAKE SOME BROWNIES?”  Yes, let’s get up right now at 2:40am and go make some brownies.  I decided at that moment that this kid was ready for college life.

Today my daughters took part in the latest of desperate acts in line with their food crazed minds.  We went and “splurged” on some Dunkin Donuts this morning and dropped them off to my mom on her birthday. 

Let me give a shout out to Shirley Pakorney on her Sweet Sixteen!

I digress.

After we returned home with the extra donuts for the lazy butts of the house, who will remain nameless and male, the girls held off a total of fifteen minutes before jumping back into the donut box for Round Two.  I shut the box after my formal announcement of “that’s it, you’ve had enough donuts for today”.

I was at the top of our staircase as my youngest was making her way up the stairs.  My three-year-old rounded the corner and started the same hike with a chocolate donut with sprinkles in her hand.  She made her way past her little sister and just as she was about to brag to me that she had gotten to the top first, we both watched as her donut slipped from her grips, bounced down six stairs, rolled around on the seventh stair before coming to a complete stop – where her younger sister picked it up and shoved it in her mouth like it had randomly fallen from the heavens above just for her.

My three-year-old immediately started shrieking that the donut was hers and that her sister had to give it back.  My youngest immediately did her best at shoving as much of the donut into her mouth as humanly possible, without choking.  All the while, I was making mention of the fact that the donut was dirty and needed to be thrown away.  My delivery seemed to be very effective, as my three-year-old unable to get the donut from her sister’s jaws with her hands, decided to desperately put her mouth up to the donut and take a bite for herself.  They finished that puppy off within milliseconds.  I imagine it was similar to two dogs fighting over a bone.  I only wish they had been wearing their Sunday dresses to top off the freak show sideshow.

One inhaled dirty donut later and an increased gag reflex, I returned to making my bed and thought about just taking a nap for the day.

But then I remembered there was still one donut left in the box.  I’d just have to avoid the stairs………………….