An open letter to the chocolate dipped donuts on my kitchen counter

Yesterday at the store after filling my cart with enough vegetables to make the checker exclaim, “WOW I’ve never seen someone buy so many vegetables, I hate vegetables, I don’t even know how you will eat all of these,” I walked towards the deli meat counter. In order to get to the deli counter for my husbands fresh sliced lunch meat I had to pass the bakery.

That is when I spotted you. In your pretty plastic box. Your chocolaty dipped goodness. You reminded me of those yummy little Hostess chocolate dipped donuts ONLY BIGGER! I thought of my sweet little Brandon and picked them up. Even though there were 15 donuts in the package I still grabbed it. Then I looked around hoping to find a package with a smaller amount. There were none. You were a smart package, you knew how to suck me in with your vast quantity and chocolaty goodness.

After you were in my cart I finished shopping. I checked my labels. Nothing with high fructose corn syrup. Nothing with fillers or nitrates (can’t wait to taste those nitrate & filler free hot dogs I got Brandon). I filled it with vegetables and organic milks and butters. I got fruit instead of cookies. Slowly I could no longer see the tasty donuts in my cart. I forgot about your tastiness lurking in there.

Until the check stand. Then I found you again as I put you on the black conveyor belt. Suddenly sometime wet appeared on my face, and I found myself hurriedly wiping drool before the checker saw it trickling out of my mouth.

I finished up and paid and walked to my car where I saw the edge of your box sticking out of the bag. You knew what you were doing. You knew I was hungry and you strategically placed yourself right where I would see you.

Of course you know what I did. You know that I grabbed one of your delicious, chocolate covered selves and ate you as I drove home to cook dinner. I didn’t even feel bad about eating you, or maybe it wasn’t you, maybe that was your mommy donut, or your auntie donut, either way I ate one donut from your little family of donuts and it was OUTSTANDING!

Then last night I got home and fed my family dinner and I gave my son 1/2 a donut as a treat. But this morning, alas you are all still here. Staring at me. You are telling me to eat all of you. Not just one, BUT ALL. Your reminding me how the people on Biggest Loser can eat 1500 calories in a temptation and still lose weight. Your making it sound like eating the whole box wouldn’t even be, “that bad.”

So I had a bite of my sons donut this morning and it was good. And I have to ask, why do you have to taste that good? You do it on purpose don’t you. You were created just to ruin diets and crash weight losses. I’m on to you sweet donuts. And even though I’m on to you, I still want to eat you. I want to shovel you in my mouth and lick the crumbs off the floor.

I’m left now staring at my sons half eaten donuts with tiny bites in them thinking, I WANT TO EAT THOSE TOO! Whatever you maker did when making you, he did right. He has made me question whether I’m a human, or if I am in fact a Hoover vacuum who runs on donut crumbs.

There will be no contest this time donuts. No mailing you out and pawning you off on some other poor soul. No no no, this time donuts, it is me vs. you and one of us won’t be here at the end. Chances are, it won’t be you!


I see you dear sweet donuts


Up close at the chocolaty goodness


Don’t look at me like that bloggers, you would eat it too


Maybe I can get by just smelling it


NO! Must eat donut


NO NO! Must not eat donut. Must just stare at it longingly instead!

Telling donuts, they are bad bad naughty little donuts. They should be ashamed of themselves
(Go ahead and count they are all still there!)

((Mandy was trying to describe my blog to her husband the other day, I stepped in saying, “I’m big on self humiliation on my blog,” But then I realized I hadn’t humiliated myself lately, which is why you now get these pictures and also, not even five minutes later!

7 thoughts on “An open letter to the chocolate dipped donuts on my kitchen counter

  1. I\’d eat all if in my house, i have to buy stuff like that, that i dont actually like or i eat it all! Greedy…You are hillarious!

    Like

  2. I hear you. I feel like sugar talks to me everywhere. It was not always like this for me but the other day I ate about 20 cookies and some cake. Oh God!!

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s