Last weekend was Swede’s birthday, and I set my alarm for early o’clock. I crept out the front door, not that I really needed to A) Because Swede isn’t what you would often describe as a ‘light sleeper’ and 2) Because the day before I’d turned to him and said, “Listen, I have to do something tomorrow morning so if you wake up and I’m not in bed JUST STAY THERE.” Because I am subtle.
Anyway, the reason I was up with the sun was so that I could get to Heller’s Bakery before they sold out of Boston Crème donuts, which are Swede’s favorite. Despite a directional snafu (shakes fist at Google Maps), I got over there quickly, and here’s where I say how awesome Sunday mornings are driving in DC, because not only is there very little traffic there is also ample parking.
THANK YOU, HAIL MARY, FULL OF GRACE, FOR HELPING ME FIND A PARKING SPACE.
I tottered into Heller’s and inhaled the dreamy smells of freshly made donuts and sugary glazes and buttercream frostings. As I’ve said before, I’m not the biggest fan of sweets, but the smells, oh, the smells. Is there anything as heavenly smelling as a bakery? I’m not sure the girl behind the counter would agree, frankly. She seemed a bit surly, but maybe that was because it wasn’t even 8 a.m. Or maybe she was just sick of the smell of donuts. Or maybe she was just having a bad day. Or maybe, maybe she was just an asshole. Hard to say, but either way, with an irritated and sour expression she informed me that they had no Boston Crème donuts that day.
That was a bummer. I was going to ask if they were going to make any later, but thought better of it, for fear of her pitching a donut at my face.
So I hemmed, but did not haw, and picked out a half-dozen other donut delights, paid my bill and wandered out. I went home put two on a plate with a candle in each, and woke up Swede singing happy birthday. Because nothing says, “Yay! You’re 33!” like warbling and open flames.
And, of course, extra sprinkles.
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Tags: baking, food, Photo Friday
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