Better And Better

If you don't draw yours, I won't draw mine. A police officer, working in the small town that he lives in, focusing on family and shooting and coffee, and occasionally putting some people in jail.

Thursday, November 02, 2006

Perfection confection

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.


At Thursday, November 02, 2006 3:38:00 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

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At Friday, November 03, 2006 7:27:00 AM, Blogger HollyB said...

Krispy Kreme is okay, I guess. If that's all you have access to.

When my offspring were munchkins, we lived down the street from a bakery. On Saturday Mornings, we walk down there and get fresh delicacies. The XX would try something new every week. Once the XY discovered Cinnamon twists, he was hooked. They are still his fav, and he's 24 now. They each got a carton of Chocolate milk to wash down all that sugar,spice and fat.
They learned about delayed gratification by waiting until we walked back home to eat their sweet treats.
So if they ever complain about their terrible childhoods, remind them about trips to the Davis Bakery.

At Friday, November 03, 2006 8:15:00 AM, Blogger Matt G said...

Holly, I grew up on Davis Bakery. I know Davis Bakery. This ain't no Davis Purity Bakery.
Seriously. I used to LOVE Davis' goodies, and would declare them the best. They do make a fine pie, and nice dainties for the breakfast table.

But there's something about the technique that Krispy Kreme has gotten down, which includes getting the donuts off the belt and into your box laid flat (not edge-on, which would be more economical, space-wise) while still very warm that is heaven. The glaze has, I think, a good deal more butter/grease/fatty goodness in it than other glazes than I've seen, and it doesn't seem to let the donut get stale as quickly.

I HATE stale donuts. By stale, I mean more than 2 hours old. But I can often eat a Krispy Kreme the next morning, a full 18 hours later.

Now, Davis makes a better jelly donut-- their filling is better.

Holly, I'll just have to bring you out there, some time. It's like a trip to the zoo.

At Friday, November 03, 2006 8:17:00 AM, Blogger Matt G said...

Oh, and I have complete understanding for your skepticism, Holly. I didn't get the enthusiasm for 'em before visiting the factory/bakery, myself.

Now... off to look into this "Word Verification" thingy that LawDog mentioned.

At Friday, November 03, 2006 6:24:00 PM, Blogger LawDog said...

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At Friday, November 03, 2006 6:27:00 PM, Blogger LawDog said...

Young Jedi, one you missed hmmm.

At Saturday, November 04, 2006 1:23:00 PM, Blogger Flo said...

Ha! Now LawDog AND the SNSS will have to split the ER bill for Holly's dyslexia. But see, Holly, that's why they do the word verification. Rude people.

Master Yoda is correct, you still missed one.

And I love Krispy Kreme, too, but more than willing to give Davis a try next time I'm down that way.


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