Doughnuts

Normally I don't eat doughnuts. In fact, in (what now seems like) the blissful pre-children days I couldn't care less for them.

And then the gods decided that my US born children must eat doughnuts, and we are related, and therefore I must eat doughnuts. Or at the very least, crave them at the rate that would compensate for their decades-long void in my life.

Of course, I still don't eat doughnuts. But mygod I crave them sometimes! In fact, there are times I crave them so much, that I find myself sitting at a bakery with a half-eaten doughnut in my hand. I like to think that I was perfectly set up. For example, the aliens hit me on the head, grabbed a few of my hairs (you know, to study the DNA of a typical earthling (and I secretly wish they only got the grey ones)), - and then placed me outside a bakery with the incriminating evidence in my hands. It's a perfect cover up - I am less likely to share my temporary amnesia if it involves me eating doughnuts.

Anyway. The alien attack may or may not have happened today. Mid-morning, I found myself sipping delicious coffee (perfectly legal), and staring at an empty napkin with glaze crumbs on it.

Just as I was about to contemplate how I got there, I heard the most beautiful voice ask "Do you mind sharing the table with me?" I raised my eyes from the napkin and saw the most beautiful woman right next to me. "Not at all, please do" I responded, and I was ready to share not just my table, but also my coffee, my napkin, and possibly my life with her. And then I thought, maybe I just want to be her. But then, who knows, maybe she doesn’t have kids. If that’s the case, what would I do with my life anymore.

She looked at me kinda funny. I thought, maybe she read my mind and thought I’d better be grateful for the life I do have. Or maybe she saw the aliens taking off in a spaceship and recognized their precious hair sample as mine, but didn't want to traumatize me. In any case, I had to admit that it was time to part our ways. I wished her a good day and left.

I went straight to my car, deep in thoughts about the beautiful stranger, the aliens, and, of course, the doughnut. I got in the car and looked in the mirror to see if all my hair was in place, and to check for new signs of aging.

And there it was. A chocolate-glaze nibble smeared across my cheek.