Occasionally my mother would go to town early Saturday mornings to get a box of assorted donuts to have with our breakfast in the 1950's. Me being the oldest of five siblings was left to babysit as my dad was either out of town or working. When mom returned with the big box of a dozen or more donuts we couldn't wait to break into the box and get the donuts with the most chocolate. Mom would set the box on the table and try to get some dishes and utensils out for cereal to go with the donuts. About this time my brother, who was 6 or 7 years of age would grab the box and run through the house trying to bite into as many donuts as possible before somebody could catch up with him and retrieve the box. It was total chaos as my younger sisters ran after him screaming for mom to stop him. By the time order was restored half the donuts had been bitten into. This happened more than once.
What about Mrs. Fischers' donuts, our wonderful Lady who cleaned for us from the First Adventist Church...she made the best homemade donuts. Those donuts melted in our mouths!
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