I was so ecstatic the day I made these doughnuts that my 9-year old daughter said she’d never seen me this happy in her life. The look of wonder on her face as she watched me pound the countertops and repeat “Oh…my….god” reminded me of the first time I saw my parents drunk. Her face betrayed a confused smile that bounced between enjoying the spectacle of my exuberance and concern that something might be seriously wrong with me. I blame nostalgia.
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