Wednesday, March 12, 2008


My dad called me today to inquire after my blood pressure (as my Monday doctor’s appointment indicated that my BP is also a stellar element of my exemplary health).

BP’s is quite lovely. Thank you.

What are you doing? he asked.

I’m workin’. I have 4 dozen donuts on the passenger seat, and I’m navigating a Deep Throat-esque parking garage.

You don’t eat that stuff! He exclaimed (he didn’t really exclaim, I just like to envision Dad “exclaiming”).

No, I don’t. But they’re not for me. They are for one of my doctors’ offices.

That’s not healthy, he told me (because, of course, I was unaware).

No, but I don’t care if they get fat. I care if I get fat.

Why don’t you bring in like a fruit tray or something?

Dad, it’s a matter of logistics. I have to carry my sample bag and computer into the office as well. Fruit trays are heavy and cumbersome, so I bring donuts. They’re easier to tote.

He laughed, and I think he laughed because he knew I was serious.


katie bateman said...

Hey Megan,This is katie (dowling) Bateman.I wanted to say hi I stop by your blog all the time.and I LOVE it your so funny!It is fun to see life through your eyes.So sorry for being a stalker for so long.Hope all is well,see ya!

Lynley said...

I'd rather eat the donuts anyway! haha!

Just Sue said...

Donuts make me sick to my stomach - no, really, they do! So does this picture...AHHHHH.