One Father's Day, while walking past a donut shop, I heard a commotion in the car stopped at the drive-thru pickup window.
A woman in the passenger seat was screaming and cursing at her husband in front of their kids, as he slowly and sadly drove the car away.
In my mind, I flashed forward 20 years in the life of one of the silent children in the backseat, now a writer...
"My father's donut order was an unsettling point of contention between my parents. My mother, a staunch advocate of a mysterious, self-penned 'no donuts with filling' household pastry policy, would become instantly enraged if the words, 'Boston Creme' escaped my father's lips, even in jest.
One Father's Day- I remember- my dad must've felt as if the 'no donuts with filling' rules did not apply- as they were mandates set down by my mother- and since it was the Day of the Father, he would be allowed to indulge in a minor transgression.
My father would not be more wrong, that moment or since.
To this day, hearing the phrase, 'jelly donut,' even in casual conversation, cripples me with a paralyzing fear of one of my mother's 'donut happenings'- a fear now unfounded, as my mother had passed long ago due to injuries sustained in a car accident with a Smucker's truck."
Happy Father's Day, Dads.
Go ahead.
Get the jelly.