The donut was still here when I arrived Tuesday morning, which would be day 11. It was gone when I came back from lunch. I hope somebody ate it, as is the destiny of every donut. I wonder what an 11-day-old donut tastes like. Not that I would want one. I was really rooting for it to be left alone until it grew legs and walked away on its own. Ah well, so ends the plight of our sugar frosted little friend. Dough you are gone, you are not forgotten.
When I got home Wednesday, Feb. 14, I greeted the missus a Happy Valentine's and gave her a kiss and a hug. There was a paused and we looked into each other's eyes for a second or two and I said... "You're not expecting anything are you?" Yup, I'm a hopeless romantic. She's so lucky to have me.