The donut man

by Katie on January 7, 2012

Brandon turns 31 today.

I think it’s safe to say I was much more enthused about his birthday than he was. He really didn’t want to do a single thing for it. He didn’t care to have a birthday cake; he wouldn’t even commit to anything for a birthday breakfast. He kept insisting he wanted absolutely nothing to be special about today.

Finally, yesterday evening, I told him, “I can’t believe you’re completely passing up the opportunity for your one day a year to request anything you want from me.”

“Katie, please. You just dished up my supper plate. I’m pretty sure you do enough for me every day.”

I agreed he may have a point.

Regardless of his wishes, I was determined to do something to acknowledge the fact my old man was getting even older today.

So I settled on the one true key to his heart:  donuts.

No joke. Gravy on something fried may come in second, but donuts are a notch above everything in his world.

I needed a few staple grocery items anyway (as in the staple grocery items:  milk, eggs and bread), and Brandon’s favorite donuts are in the same lot as the grocery store, so I figured that would give me an excuse, since I wasn’t supposed to do anything out of the ordinary for his birthday. I did have to set my alarm for 4:45, but let’s be honest, that wasn’t much of a stretch from normalcy for me either.

When it was my turn at the donut shop to select my dozen (I know, for most people, a dozen would be a bit overkill. Not for my husband when we’re talking donuts.), I got the donut man to grab all four of the orange donuts he had first, letting him know they were my birthday boy husband’s absolute favorite. As I was leaving, the donut man told me to wish him a happy birthday.

I woke Brandon up when I got in (he had two hay trucks to load early this morning, which is why my grocery/donut run had to be so early).

…After three more attempts to wake him up, he finally got himself ready and made his way to the kitchen, where he found his donuts. I was thanked, and he began making his first round selections.

He asked a question about the donut shop, so since the opportunity presented itself, I shared the donut man’s birthday wishes.

“Wow,” he said, “Thanks, Donut Man. That was nice. It means a lot, coming from someone who chose such a fine occupation.”

And just in case I couldn’t tell by his completely serious, non-joking or sarcastic tone, he looked me right in the eye, no grin whatsoever on his face, and said, “I’m dead serious. He plays a very important role in my life.”

Happy birthday, Brandon. I’m so glad you found the Donut Man.

 

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