[BlogEntry] Wow, it's amazing how much hatred you can have for another human being

So yesterday, Veteran's Day, the kids had no school. The wife asks if I can make a coffee run since she'll be staying in the house all morning (playgroup coming over). This, in turn, means a donut run for the kids. Anybody with young kids knows how this works. You get the right donut. No questions, no options. Each child has a donut preference, and god help you if you mess it up.

My oldest wants a chocolate frosted. With or without sprinkles? Because the chocolate comes two ways. She thinks she's doing me a favor by saying "whatever kind you want to get me, Daddy". But I explain to her through an odd quirk of the universe that the one without sprinkles is a glazed donut, while the one with sprinkles is a plain donut. She opts for glazed and no sprinkles.

My three year old is easy. Pink donut. In this case that means strawberry frosted with sprinkles. Pink donut is like a constant in her universe. She is the Henry Ford of donuts. You can get me whatever flavor you want as long as it's a pink donut.

The boy? He's too young to complain. I get him vanilla frosted just because the geek in me likes ordering the full set of vanilla-chocolate-strawberry.

Before heading off to the donut store, I check my email as I tend to do. And that's where karma kicks me in the ass.

You see, I get to the donut store and wait my turn. And the woman in front of me? Takes all of the pink donuts. There were about 4 left, she got them all as part of a mixed dozen. I asked if there were anymore and was told no. (Where's karma come in? If I hadn't checked my email, I would have been there first, you see.)

Now had I been a smarter person I might have said "Any chance you can leave one of those so my daughter can have it?" Instead I sat there glaring at her, silently and violently wishing death upon her and her whole fat cow high blood pressure stuff her face adults taking donuts from children family. Visions of a parking lot mugging crossed my mind.

I ended up getting her vanilla with sprinkles instead. I came home, head down in shame, having failed one of my children. I explained to her, without looking her in the eye, that a big mean lady had come in before me and taken all the pink donuts. "That's ok Daddy," she said, holding my face. "You can get me chocolate."

Double damnit.