Donuts are an American institution. What is more American than little round blobs of dough dropped into hot grease and fried until they're fluffy on the inside and golden brown on the outside.
You might think that I eat donuts all the time. I don't. They're a rare treat.
I took Tabitha and the kids for donuts this morning. Abigail got a glazed raised, Aidan picked out a rainbow sprinkle, Tabitha got an apple fritter, and I got a glazed old fashioned and a crumb (yes, that's two for those of you keeping track).
Donuts are pure sugary bliss. Sure, I can feel my heart struggling as if it's pumping blood uphill. I'll make up for it by eating something healthy sometime.