Ten Dollar Box of Doughnuts

Here are just two of the many seriously-raucous lingual licks Urban Dictionary readers offer as definitions of Spring Break:

1. A week where all the dumb kids go to Cancun and all the level headed people get to relax.
2. A week in which one does not wear pants.

As a former collegian, I relate to these definitions.
(I said relate, people, not represent.)

I mean, I went to Iowa State...how could you not?
(If you don't know what I mean, Bing Veisha. Then dumb kids and no pants will take on a whole new meaning.)

These days, Spring Break looks far different from behind the specs of a 34-year old. The Happy Dance of no early lectures, two-hour exams, finals, and book buys has been replaced by a new dance centered around just one question: "What will we do to fill two weeks? And how can that remind me of what I'm fighting for?"

Usually, we take a family getaway - one during Spring and one during Fall. But, with so much going on this summer, we decided to breathe a bit this March. Instead, we took a mini-staycation (and you know how we love those!), we hit the Y for pool-play, and spent a day in Denver...because what's the point of living a mere hour from the Mile-High if you never seize the chance to breathe shallower?

We started the day in Lone Tree - the nearest port to dock for some sugary delectables of doughnut delight.

First came the hats (too soon, they won't find these cool anymore
so pictures were a must).

Then came the caviar of fat and sugar...

So. So. So. Good.
I even brewed a coffee to take with me in my go-carrier...because what's the point of a morsel without its brew?

Apparently, Judd eats his Kreme's like his cake...icing first.

My "quick, figure it out" skills reached a new level when stir sticks became impromptu knives. Hey, it worked. And makes for quirky art.

Always reminds me of what I'm fighting for...

and why they're worth our time.
Our love.
Our unfailing devotion.

And a ten dollar box of doughnuts.