Childhood Story

I was seven years old, and for one of the first times, one of my sisters brought a fresh box of donuts for the family to enjoy.  We had a big family and we were poor, so everyone only got a small piece of a donut.

It was so delicious.  Wow.  Scrumptious.  So different, yet so tasty.  But so little?  It was gone before I knew it.

One donut was saved for somebody who wasn’t home.  It might have been saved for my brother, which I thought was unfair.  Why are things always saved for him when he’s never home?  I’m home, so I should get privileges. 

The donut was kept in the fringe, and I was told not to touch it.  I was specifically warned not to eat that donut!

That evening, there wasn’t anybody home.  I was bored.  I thought to myself, “That was such a good donut.  Maybe I could just go smell it!”

I went into the fridge and found that donut in the top compartment, right underneath the freezer.  I grabbed the donut, then I took a bite out of it.  It was so good.  I thought that a bite wasn’t a big deal.  I left the kitchen and went back to roam around the apartment.

Then, I couldn’t help myself.  I decided to go back into the kitchen have another bite.  It was so good.  Then I started to roam around the apartment again.

This pattern continued until the donut was good.  Was I thinking that nobody would notice the donut gone?

When my mom came home that night, she asked me what happened with the donut?  I don’t remember if I tried to lie or not, but she knew the truth either way.

I got a big spanking for eating the donut when I was specifically told not to.  I was upset, and I made my mom upset.  Why did I do this?  Was that donut really worth it?

It’s like I was controlled by something or somebody else.  I didn’t want to eat that donut, but somehow I did.  Am I really in control of my actions?  How do I get myself into these messes?

It seems that life hasn’t changed much into my adulthood.