Donut Holes

I found donut holes in my car. Crusty, crumbly donut holes.

This is troubling because, as a rule, I don’t eat donut holes.

Okay, I may have had a donut hole from time to time, but I cannot seriously remember the last time I had a donut hole while driving in my car. If ever.

Of course I blame my husband. (It’s easy to blame the husband.)

[No you may not see said donut holes, I threw them away with extreme prejudice. And vacuumed up related detritus.]

I don’t have a point, really, I found dried up donut holes in my car and I thought you should know.

Because knowing is half the battle.