As an internal battle rages between the rum from last night and
the three Taco Supremes consumed moments ago, I can’t help but wonder about my
recent decision making prowess. At the
time, both choices seemed logical. In
retrospect, maybe not so much. When will
I learn?
On a positive note, I did make one good call yesterday.
My sons’ school had a “Donuts with Dad” event (not to be
confused with the “Muffins with Mom” hootenanny from last fall). Before the first bell rang, Dads were invited
to have a donut with their offspring in the cafeteria. I don’t know about you, but this Dad never
misses a crack at free donuts.
As I entered the school with my two boys, the popularity of
this idea was immediately apparent. A
long line stretched out of the cafeteria and continued 40-50 feet down the
hall. The gathering of excited children
and hungry Dads was impressive.
As we took our proper place at the end of the line one
thought popped into my head. I was reminded of those police sting operations you hear about on the news. You know… the ones where criminals are told that
they’ve won a big screen TV and when they show up to collect… they’re cuffed
and thrown into a waiting squad car. This
“free donut” ploy was definitely a way to gather a bunch of unsuspecting Dads
in one place. Maybe that rolling
violation from 1995 had finally caught up with me.
The white line around the STOP sign does NOT mean it's optional!
However, as we progressed through the line and entered the
cafeteria… my fears were calmed. Not only
were there WAY too many Dad’s to throw into a fleet of squad cars… I saw at
least three exits that weren’t covered by uniformed personnel.
That’s when it happened.
In the center of the room stood a long table brimming with donuts and juice. The donuts were located on the far end. Cups of apple juice were in the middle and at
the side nearest to us stood a young girl pouring orange juice into small white
cups. She was probably a 4th
or 5th grader who had been quickly drafted (probably against her
will) into duty to help calm the overwhelming horde of hungry Dads. As we approached the table, she was furiously
pouring OJ as if her life depended on it.
When we got to be 3rd or 4th in line, I saw her
pour a juice and set the cup down. In
the next motion, her hands went to her face.
Now I’m not one to judge… but what happened next is
generally considered unacceptable behavior in the food handling industry. The sneeze that came out of this poor girl’s
face was epic. The good news was that
her hands were there to block it. The
bad news was that a snot roughly the size, shape and color of a Brazilian tree
frog escaped her nose. Embarrassed, she
quickly looked around to see if anyone else working the table had noticed. Satisfied that they had not, she immediately
wiped her hands on her pants and began pouring more glasses of juice.
now imagine grosser and no
tissue.
Needless to say, my excitement for “Donuts with Dad” waned. As my sons and I approached the crime scene, I
quickly shoved them past the orange juice to the far end of the table where the
donuts were safely outside the sneeze spray radius. As they each grabbed a glazed beauty, I
abstained. My appetite lost.
Now please don’t take this post the wrong way. As a father of a ten year old and an eight
year old, I totally felt for the girl. I see grosser things happen on a weekly basis. And I do hope she’s feeling better. However, I apologize to anyone who was
behind us in line that may not be feeling 100% today. In case you missed it, the juice was loose.
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