My daughter Allie has a bit of a cavity. Not a bad one, but one to be addressed. This morning, I raced home after work and picked her up, and we sought to keep an appointment with her new dentist, somewhat inconveniently located at the opposite end of a good-sized city. Never having been much of a city boy, I saw this as A Journey, worthy of packing a lunch. Allie packed a book the size of a medium-large shoebox. (That Rowling chick sure can catch an 8 year-old’s imagination. Thing is, she caught it two or three years ago; big hardbacks have been cluttering my daughter’s space [and thus my space] since..).
Knowing the drill, we actually arrived a few minutes early, and I filled out the better part of a score of pages (front and back) of The Expected Paperwork. Allie went back without apprehension for her exam and X-rays. 20 minutes later, I was told that she needed a cleaning and a filling, and that they couldn’t be done today. Again, this kind of business is easier to handle when you’ve come to expect it. I smiled and asked for a date to put them both together, and the delighted receptionist in scrubs found one three weeks hence. Allie tendered the co-pay that I gave her, and we took off. 10:00AM, and she hasn’t had a proper breakfast. In such a situation, a parent can feel mighty guilty. My daughter was hungry, and had a cavity. Something nutritious was in order.
As I pulled out onto the main boulevard, I realized where we were, and took a right rather than the expected left back home. Soon we were disembarking and entering a slightly austere white building decorated in a faintly 1930’s style. Behind a wall of plate glass ran a huge Rube-Goldberg machine that turned fat and sugar and flour into dreams. Yep, instead of properly providing my funky-fanged little girl with proper tucker, I gave her Krispy Kreme. A nice lady used a couple of waxed papers to pluck up two glazed donuts off of the bizarre conveyer belt about 5 feet beyond the sheet of glaze, and hand one each to Allie and me. Warm. Fluffy. Hot sweet fatty goodness.
I’ve held myself to half a dozen donuts, a cup of their excellent Rich Roast coffee, and some of Allie’s pint of orange juice. Frankly, I’m proud of my restraint.
We came home to brush her teeth before she went back to school.