One of the gifts of motherhood is the constant glimpse of
life through the eyes of a child.
I took Harper Lee to an appointment in Winston-Salem today, and while we
were there, I thought we might run over to Krispy Kreme to cash in a coupon for
a free doughnut that Isaac received for Christmas from his friend, Will. Since I had picked Harper Lee up right
after school, I figured she would be really hungry. Once we left the doctor’s office, we decided on an early dinner
at Chic-Fil-A, the one with the indoor play place, and dessert at KK.
The play place was a huge hit. Any restaurant that offers both fries and lemonade and
allows its patrons to run, jump, climb and squeal at will is five-star dining
to my kids. The stop at Chic-Fil-A
really should have been enough, but I’d already made the mistake of mentioning
doughnuts, so with full bellies, we gathered our kid meal loot and climbed back
into the car for another stop along the nutritional void highway.
Apparently, not many people stop in at Krispy Kreme at 5:00
in the evening. We were the only
customers in the joint so we made careful selections, grabbed our ice cold
milks and commenced to cram our faces with cream-filled, chocolate and sprinkle
covered, and deep-fried delights.
Then the guy with the dough came out, and it was on.
While the ten to twelve racks that look as if they are run
on bike chains slowly delivered the doughy, white circles to the vat of boiling
oil, my children pressed their sticky faces and hands against the glass with
such open-mouthed awe, I had to laugh.
At one point, Harper Lee said, “This is fascinating!” with such
conviction, I had to admit I thought so too. Isaac just kept shouting, “Did you see that? Did you see that?” in a voice that was
so excited and full of joy, I was almost shouting myself.
As the first batch flipped over to reveal a shiny, golden
brown surface, both of my kids, and another child who had joined them in their
marveling, all sucked in their breath at the same time and began to laugh
hysterically with one another. And
the glaze—well, the glaze is nirvana.
I mean, it’s gallons and gallons of white, syrupy sugar poured out in
glorious and continuous streams.
It was a sight to behold.
For them, of course, the glaze was the marvel. For me, it was their faces.
All told, we spent about an hour at Krispy Kreme today. Once the sign for fresh doughnuts came
on, the place was packed. We,
quite naturally, had to buy three “hot and now” doughnuts to take with us in
the car, and while I felt slightly embarrassed by the obvious “we don’t go to
town much” nature of my children, I couldn’t help but feel a little happy about
it too. A trip to Krispy Kreme is
still special, and that’s the way it should be.
On the way home and as we moaned, “Oh, my belly hurts…”
under our breath, we listened to our favorite story time podcast,
Storynory. The tale was “The
Little Mermaid” by Hans Christian Anderson, and in it, he describes the delight
the little mermaid feels when she beholds the marvelous things of the world
above the sea. It occurred to me
that we have created a world where bigger and better and more spectacular
things are necessary in order to be considered marvelous. How many of us see the majesty and
wonder that surrounds us everyday? We have become so conditioned, we constantly require bigger
and better things to capture our imagination and our appreciation. Do we think it’s childish to express
awe, to gasp in wonder and to squeal with delight? Or have we become so jaded that we stumble through life
surrounded by miracles, but we just don’t notice? Whatever it is, I saw marvelous things today, and I don’t
want to lose that.