Of course we would pick National Donut Day to go to Krumpe’s. Derek was practicing his fun-dad-creating-memories routine. He told the kids to get their jammies on, and then loaded them up in the car.
Oh, summer nights! We rode into town at dusk, with windows down and warm wind making the back seat kids shriek that they were cold. As if! They just don’t like wind in their face, silly kids.
Krumpe’s was PACKED! I wish I’d thought to get a picture. Krumpe’s is this hole-in-the-wall local joint, in a back alley, and it opens for business at 7:00pm. They close up shop in the wee hours of morning, so they can deliver donuts to all the local stores that carry Krumpe’s.
We got there around 8:30pm, and cars and people were lined up all over the place. Derek dropped me off instead of trying to fit the Suburban down a packed alley. I found the back of the line, and mentioned to someone that I’d never seen Krumpe’s this crowded, and was it just a Friday night thing? I assumed the lady I was addressing was a local gal. (You can just spot them somehow, you know?)
She shook her head. “It’s National Donut Day!”
Ohhhh! I forgot about Facebook. All day, people had been posting about free donuts at Krispy Kreme, and I was lamenting that fact that we don’t have one close to us.
Don’t get me wrong, I love packed out places — like sold-out out movie theaters! It heightens the experience for me. Community, and all that. I love Christmas shopping at the mall! My husband is the opposite. He hates lines, and restaurants full of people. (I love waiting for 30 minutes at Olive Garden, so I can people watch, and chat with my date for that much longer!) He’d rather sit in the middle of an empty movie theater.
I chatted with the people around me in line, and soaked in the warm summer darkness. I probably stood in line for 30 minutes. People took turns holding the shop door open, passing it on to the next person when it was their turn to order donuts. Maybe some people like holding doors, but I couldn’t take it any longer! I walked over to a planter full of dirt and flowers, picked it up, and walked over to the elderly gentleman currently holding the door.
“Here. Let me put this down right there.”
Startled smile. “Oh! Thank you! You should work here!”
I wanted to raise my hand and be like, “HOME SCHOOLER!”
I ordered 3 dozen donuts, and by the time I found Derek parked out on the street, he’d killed his phone playing Free Fall, and some of the kids were asleep.
We pigged out on donuts on the drive home, and tucked our sticky, sleeping children in bed with un-brushed teeth.
Mmm… sweet memories!