Donut Delight

I debated taking my little one to a coffee shop for a treat before picking up his brother from his morning activities.  Only because I feared being tattled on by my two year old son.  Which would result in endless demands and screeching from my four year old for his own donut and/or ginger molasses cookie grinding me down to an irritated, exhausted pulp of a human being.

In the end the rare one on one time spent with my little one won out.  How could I resist this face?

I mean really.  He's more scrumptious than a double chocolate, double
glazed Boston Cream donut...with extra custard filling.
(That donut does not exist.  But it sure should.)

We arrived at Tim Horton's and since he'd never had a choice all on his own - OMG! His first whole entire donut to himself - no sharing or compromising required! - he automatically chose his brother's favourite.

Mint chocolate glaze.

Generally speaking, I love mint chocolate anything.  Actually pretty much anything to do with chocolate is two thumbs up in my books. But these mint chocolate donuts?  Hideous.  I persuaded him to choose a plain chocolate glazed instead.

Which had nothing to do with my love for them.  Not at all.

He held tight to that brown paper bag with the chocolate confectionery goodness in it and proceeded to choose our table. I slid into the seat across from him.

He immediately (of-course) unwrapped the treat with relish and held it in both of his two year old chubbalicious hands.  I didn't bother to tease him about me eating some of it...I do this occasionally and it never ends well.  Small child of mine takes after his Mother when it comes to sharing food.  Meaning he doesn't.  And not just because he's two and two year olds claim anything they lay their eyes on to be theirs.  He's really quite great at sharing anything else.  His toys, his bike, his books.  But food?  Doesn't deal well...(as I hide my face in shame because he got this trait from me.)

"Mumma I share with you?" without missing a beat he broke the donut in unequal halves and offered me the larger half.

Of-course my heart went mushy and I got unreasonably and irrationally emotional.

Turns out you should probably give your child the benefit of the doubt...they tend to surprise you in the most delightful ways sometimes.

And your darn right I took half.

But I let him have the bigger one.