Remember when?
“What time is it Mom?”
“It’s two minutes later than the last time you asked me!” Mom calls from somewhere in the house. Dad lets out a chuckle from the living room where he sits reading the newspaper.
“HE’S COMING DOWN THE DRIVEWAY! I CAN HEAR HIS BRAKES SQUEAKING!” Peggy yells from the front porch.
“DO YOU HAVE YOUR DIME?” I yell, running from the kitchen to the front of the house.
Practically running through the screen door, I make it to the porch just in time to see the white truck with no side windows curve the bend of our steep driveway. Its tires crunch across the gravel that Dad spread in front of the carport. Heidi, our pet dog, runs up to the truck door, wagging her fluffy white tail. Mr. Donut Man steps out of the truck, slams the door shut, and moves to the back of the truck where he reaches for a large metal handle. He reaches down to give Heidi a pat on the head.
“Good morning girls!” he says, looking over his shoulder at the two of us standing there with giant grins on our faces, clutching sweaty dimes in our hands. “Does your mother want bread today?”Mr. Donut man asks, and pulls a little piece of bread out of his pocket for Heidi. He tosses it in the air and Heidi catches it, running to the porch to enjoy her treat.
“MOM, DO YOU WANT BREAD TODAY?” Peggy yells. Just then, Mom comes through the front door with her little brown coin purse in her hand. “Just the usual, please. One loaf of white sandwich bread please.”
I don’t remember what Mr. Donut Man said next because the magic is about to happen. He turns the big metal handle and the big doors of the truck open wide. And there they are!! Drawers filled with warm, puffy donuts! Sugar donuts. Chocolate donuts. Glazed donuts. Plain donuts. Heaven! Right in our driveway! Mr. Donut Man pulls out the bottom drawer so we can see inside.
Well girls, are you just going to stand there?” Mr. Donut Man smiles. “One sugar donut please!” we both say, both of us pointing to the row in the middle.
“Go ahead!” Mr. Donut Man says, holding a box filled with waxed paper. We each grab a piece and carefully take a donut from the rack. The smell of fresh baked donuts is making us dizzy. “Thank you Mr. Donut Man!” we both yell, as we run for our secret tree fort behind the house. Another glorious Saturday morning!
