Ok, you can shoot me right now. Quick, do it before I change my mind. No? Fine, suit yourself. You may have second thoughts in a few minutes after I reveal what I have done (or, in this case, failed to do). I have committed a sacrilege, unforgivable sin that I'm not sure can ever be forgiven. I may have cost my kids a bit of their childhood with this mistake. Did you know that Winston-Salem is the home of the Krispy Kreme donut? Did you know that a Krisy Kreme donut is a taste of heaven itself (I pity you if you do not)? And did you know that as of yesterday, over A YEAR since we had moved to Krisy Kreme town, I had not taken my kiddos to a KK so they could partake in this spiritual awakening? I'm going to wait while you find and load your gun ...
Yes, I am a horrible mother. How could I deny them this pleasure? Well, I decided that yesterday was the day and after naps we headed down the street to good ole KK. Let's just say that the kids were impressed. No, beyond impressed. More like hooked. Addicted. Donut-a-holics. What have I started?
I shudder when I think what will happen when they realize that you can buy them a dozen at a time. Or when they find that they have a different thematic donut for every conceivable occasion or holiday (donut with a face of MLK on it anyone?). Or when they discover that Mommy really likes donuts too and all we need to do is ask nicely with a "pretty please" on top and she will pull into the KK parking lot faster than you can say coronary heart disease.
I guess I'd better start exercising now. Anyone know how many crunches it takes to work off the 6 pack of glazed donuts sitting on top of my abs?