The past couple of years, Leah has asked for doughnuts for her Mother’s Day treat.
This morning, we headed toward one of the Buffalo, N.Y., suburbs near us for a doughnut shop with a good online reputation. As I angled into the parking lot, commenting on the number of cars, Leah said, “There’s a line out the door. I don’t need a doughnut from here that badly.”
On her recommendation, I redirected to the nearest Tops Friendly Market, our go-to grocery store while we’re working in upstate New York. There, I parked on the edge of the lot, we purchased our favorite doughnuts, retreated to the pickup, sat there and enjoyed our goodies.
Happy Mother’s Day!
Meanwhile, my thoughts turned to … not Mother’s Day … but doughnuts.
When I was growing up, doughnuts were a big-time treat for our family. To begin with, there were not doughnut shops every half-mile as it often seems to be today. There were likely others at the time, but the only shop we ever patronized, the only one I knew of, was Jamie’s Doughnuts on East Methvin Street near downtown Longview, Texas.
It wasn’t just a run to the nearest convenience store. From where we lived near East Mountain, it was at least a 20-minute drive, so it was a big deal. And that’s where my memories kick in.
One of us kids would be allowed to ride along to pick up the doughnuts. It was always a Sunday morning, as I recall. Upon arriving, we’d enter the small reception area in front of the display cases. I do not remember there being inside eating areas, but maybe that’s because we never did so. There was, however, almost always a line, though never too long to wait for the treat.
Speaking of treat, one reason for wanting to ride shotgun on the run was the proprietors always offered a free doughnut hole for kids. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Two other memories were signs on the wall near the register:
“In God We Trust; All Others Pay Cash” and something like,
“We Gladly Extend Credit to Any Customers at Least 90 Years Old … When Accompanied by Their Parents.”
As a youngster, I thought those were hilarious.
The order was placed and the 45-minute drive home commenced. It was borderline torture to have to watch a box of freshly made doughnuts during a 2-hour drive home. Therefore, the attending kid, his appetite already whetted by a free doughnut hole, was allowed to eat one whole doughnut while carefully guarding the rest.
That made it worth getting up early on a Sunday morning.