Eyes wide. Tears forming. Hands quickly covering her face.
No chocolate munchkins. Gone. Sold out. Nada. Nothing. A major crisis. We've experienced this before. Nothing good can come from it. But today had to be different. Needed to be.
What to do, what to do. I knew this could be a major meltdown. Quickly, I looked at the trays of donuts. And there they were. The chocolate glazed circles of donut wonder. The mommy and daddy of the chocolate munchkin. But would she buy into this?
And so I told the story of how the chocolate glazed munchkins were made: They each have a mommy and a daddy. And they are those big donuts, the chocolate glazed parents on the tray beneath the strawberry mommies and daddies. And those chocolate mommies and daddies popped out their little chocolate glazed munchkin babies, and today's babies had all been adopted by other hungry people. But the mommy and daddy donuts, who tasted just like their babies, needed a home.
Would she be willing to take them home, to give them the satisfaction of filling an empty belly?
Yes. I'll try them, she nodded. All of which surprised me.
And so I ordered them up. Two chocolate glazed donuts. Big people's donuts. No little kid munchkins today...
We got back, and before I knew it, she had them both on a plate. And she realized that yes, indeed, the mommy and daddy are almost as good as the baby munchkins. And so, within a half hour, this was all that remained:
Everything is gonna be all right. Right?