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June 2, 2013 By gwynyth

Doughnuts for Breakfast

 Part of the point of this blog experiment, is to practice often, away from any serious drafts, in an effort to make those projects better. But practice sounds so obligatory. And when I have to practice something, I’d rather do it with friends. Anyone out there want to play along? 

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Doughnuts for Breakfast.

This has become a most favourite birthday tradition amongst the kiddos here, and so I was immediately drawn to  the ‘Doughnuts for Breakfast’ writing prompt in ‘Naming The World’.

Set a timer for 20-30 min and free write, weaving this topic in, however your imagination deems fit. Then post your piece  in the comments-you know you want to! Check out and contribute to the first grapefruit jam practice here.

Here is my practice:

I walk out of my bedroom rubbing the sleep from my eyes. My rumpled nightgown literally dusts the floor as I make my way to the kitchen table, blindly plunking myself down on the green vinyl chair, my favourite amongst the mishmash of choices, and wait for my eyes to focus.

It’s the highlight of my morning; the surprise of what daddy has left me for breakfast, and what delicious message is attached to it. The ritual began six months ago. He’d finally found a new job delivering fresh-from-the-bakery bread around town, good thing too, the rent was late and the electric company had called a time or two. It means he’s up and gone way before me, but also that he’s home after I get done with school.  This is way better anyhow. After school, we cook an early supper together, spaghetti and peas maybe, and talk about, just, anything! Some daddies would just turn on the TV.  That’s what my friend Marcie says.

Now I’m ready. I open my eyes proper, and lean over my dish, veiled by a thin tea towel,  like I’m about open a birthday present. I pinch up that cloth in my fingers and whip it away like a magician at the big reveal-Voila!

“A Doughnut!” My own voice surprises me; it feels weird talking out loud to an empty house.

I take a moment to admire my gift. A beautiful circle of plump white dough, just covered with translucent white icing and topped off with a rainbow of sprinkles. I pick it up by its edges, careful not to smoosh in the perfect circle and take a big satisfying mouthful. The soft, pillowy dough collapses against the roof of my mouth, the icing melts on my tongue, and the sprinkles give a good crunch to the whole deal.

Boo to the empty house, I think before I declare, “My Daddy’s the best.”

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Comments

  1. Rozanne says

    June 3, 2013 at 9:05 pm

    Doughnuts for Breakfast

    Dear French Cruller,

    I see you. You know that I do.

    You taunt me, enticing me to worship those devil incarnates: white sugar and white flour. I have used every piece of will power that is left to resist the temptation. Every morning I walk towards that franchised coffee shop and cross the street before I have to pass by just to avoid you. You, the donut’s rebellious cousin.

    Today I tell myself: “What’s the harm eating one?”

    Today I don’t cross the street.

    Today I find myself in an out-of-body experience, watching myself walk into the coffee shop.

    As I wait in line, I pull my hat a little lower and leave my sunglasses on, as if I’m a wanted criminal. What if the kids knew? How will I ever get away with it? Breaking into a cold sweat, I almost turn around and bolt.

    But then I catch a glimpse of you. You tantalizing vixen. You stand out in the crowd of conventional donuts with your rippled texture.

    It’s my turn to order. I mumble under my breath, “Frn clr.” The high school drop-out behind the counter obviously doesn’t speak get-me-my-damn-donut-before-anybody-sees-me language. Lord help me if I have to repeat myself.

    I look surreptitiously around and spot a familiar face dressed incognito like me.

    We look at each other and break out laughing. Caught!

    “I won’t tell the kids if don’t.” “Deal.”

    So thank you Mr, Cruller. We wouldn’t have started our secret weekly donut breakfast render-vous without you.

    SIncerely,
    Rozanne

    P.S. Thanks Gwyneth! THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN!

  2. gwynythk says

    June 5, 2013 at 7:53 am

    Rozanne! I love it! Great descriptions….mmmm cruller.
    Thanks for playing along!

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