TA: Audience: Whitney

We’d decided to make doughnuts. We were all doing something; it was like a machine; roll, pinch, toss, sizzle—it smelled pretty darn good. Our little machine took a little detour; Destry bent down, and when she stood up her head hit the tongs that were used for flipping, and the uncooked doughnut spiraled through the air and landed behind the stove. For some reason we thought this was hilarious (You and I anyway) and we were rolling on the ground. I can’t pinpoint the exact reason why it was so funny, but even now as I’m picturing it I’m smiling. Perhaps the powdered sugar in the air had just gotten to our heads.
After the doughnut affair, we drove to the grocery store in the lovely fifteen-seater van in order to buy some life saver mints—(if you chew on them in the dark they spark in your mouth). Destry was trying to ride in a cart. I think she crashed.
On the way home we saw what we thought was a cat and so we started chasing it with the van. It turned out to be a fox. When we got to your house I think I parked the van on the street—I was too nervous parking it on your long driveway. We watched Robin Hood: Men in Tights with your grandpa, and ate doughnuts. Then we laid under the stars on your trampoline looking for UFOs, conversing philosophically, and pointing out shooting stars.