If you eat healthy, just stop reading now because you will only judge me if you continue to read.
Yesterday, as Earl and I were leaving our ballroom dance class, Tucker called.
"Will you please get me some donuts at Tim Hortons?" he asked.
"No. You eat too much fast food, I don't have any extra money this week, and Dad needs to get to work." I reeled off the reasons for the rejection.
Truthfully, both of my boys would eat every meal at fast food restaurants. They don't even like my homemade bread, much less the brownies or the pasta salad or grilled chicken. Anything I make, they would rather have the restaurant version.
Earl dropped me at home and headed off to work. I was determined to make something to eat that Tucker would like.
It needed to be quick though because I still had a bunch of essays to grade.
I pulled out a heavy pan and filled the bottom with canola oil and started heating it. Then I unwrapped a tube of biscuit dough and popped them open against the counter. I found a small circle, half of a tea ball, to cut holes in the center of the biscuits and soon had 16 donut shaped pieces of dough. I dropped them into the hot oil, turning them when they started to brown.
When both sides were browned, I used metal tongs to fish them from the pan and throw them into a plastic bag I had filled with cinnamon and granulated sugar. Another bag was filled with confectioner sugar. The hot donuts were covered with sugar and set on a plate.
The ones with sugar and cinnamon tasted like elephant ears from the fair, and the ones with powdered sugar tasted like funnel cakes.
Tucker ate four.
A fewer hours later as I sat at the desk grading papers, I heard his footsteps pounding on the stairs.
"What's for dinner?" he asked.
"Donuts," I said. "Help yourself."
What can you expect? I'm only good for about one meal a day -- healthy or not.
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