The Donut

I have Brady with me every single morning. Every single morning we make our way to school together.  We have a routine.  Part of it includes getting my coffee at Starbucks in the drive thru. Then one day, I had to go in because the line was long and I was in a hurry. Brady is 2.5 so he is pretty capable of walking and going in with me. Now our days go something like this even though this was one I am about to tell you about was extraordinary ordinary day…

“Mama we go in?”

At some point in every morning he asks me this. Sometimes before we have even left our own house.

“No buddy not today. Mama is in a hurry and we need to get to school today quick.”

“Mama we see the cows?”

“No buddy. We don’t have time to see the cows today. Mama promises when school is out we will go visit the cows and horses so you can see them, touch them and talk to them”

He loves to go the “long way” to school each day after stopping to get coffee so he can see the cows grazing at Wagner Farms. It is out of the way but it is usually our way.

“Mama we go in please. I want donut. A white one.”

I glance at the clock wondering if I have time and I know that I don’t but I do. I always have time, it’s just a matter of making it.  

“Right there. Park right there mama.”

I pull in and park even though the drive thru lane is empty.  I unbuckle him from his seat and before I can ask he reaches up for my hand.  We walk from our parking spot to the door. I open the door and he runs to the counter.

“Mama drink coffee. I eat donut. You pay mama?”

“Yeah, buddy I will pay.”

My order never changes. A venti, nonfat,e xtra hot, no foam, no water chai for me and one petite vanilla bean scone for him.  The employee hands him the bag and he carries it with pride. He doesn’t open it because it’s not time. 

“Tank You”

I am speechless as I watch how polite he is unprompted. He is mine. I swell with pride.

“Your son is gorgeous. How old is he?”

I notice she is sitting with her daughter and they are enjoying a cup of coffee together and I miss my mama.  And then I look at him and grin.

“Thank you. Tell them how old you are.”

“Two.”

“Tell them your name.”

“Bwady Ischer”

“Brady Fischer. That’s right. Go sit down and let them be. Say goodbye buddy.”

“Bye. I eat my donut now. I go to school.”

He climbs up on the chair careful not to drop the bag and opens it slowly, methodically pulling the scone out.  As fast as he gets up he jumps out of the chair each day and walks the bag to the garbage and puts his bag in there.

“I throw the bag in the garbage. I throw it away before I eat my donut.  Ew yucky goes in garbage.”

 He told me it goes in the garbage. He walks it over and places it in. Hurriedly, he climbs back in his chair as I wait for my coffee and he begins to eat. Quietly eats as he looks out the window watching the comings and goings on Lake Avenue. 

My coffee comes and I sit. We sit. We sit watching things move outside. He tells me about the trucks, we count the cars in the parking lot.

“Two, one, free, four”

I grab my coffee and his small hand and leave the Starbucks. The donuts are starting to add up.  Yet suddenly, it doesn’t matter about the meeting I missed or the papers I can’t grade before class. I have time and I gave it him and he got his donut.