Yet another piece of evidence that Ella is my child.

She and Trish went to the grocery store yesterday while I was out playing golf with the neighbor.  When I got home, Ella said, “Daddy, we got a very special donut for you.”

Ahhhh. What a kid!

“Come!” she said, and patted her leg, they way I taught her to command the dogs.

I followed her to the kitchen, where she pointed up to a cabinet where Trish had stashed the confection. Why did she put it in the cabinet? I dunno. Anyway …

This was no ordinary donut! Some people eat vanilla or chocolate, and some eat pistachio carmel cherry marshmallow fudge. Trish would choose the former, I’d choose the latter. Ella, apparently, has inherited my sense of sweetness. This “donut,” which she picked out, was a gob of flaky dough the size of my hand, with apple filling, carmel icing and pecans.

“Eat it. Eat it, Daddy!”

That’s my girl!

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