As I’ve said before, my wife and I are trying hard to instill good habits in our son: social, behavioral, moral. Dietary, too: We want to raise neither a vegan scold nor a future Twinkie murderer. And then something like this comes along: Ladies and gents, I present to you this box of crocheted soft-toy donuts.
I don’t know if I’ve ever had such a bifurcated reaction in my life. If I saw my little guy stuffing one of these in his mouth, I’d about have a heart attack from the cuteness, and also at the horrified realization that I was setting him up for a future actual coronary of his own. My inner righteousness has come up against my inner Homer Simpson. D’oh.