There are few things as great as a huge plate of donuts on a Sunday morning. Since Henry is my flesh and blood, he already knows this to be quite true and is even quicker than I to suggest "dough-nees" (McDougallese for those sweet treats) on any given morning. The promise of donuts was honestly the only thing that kept him from demanding to go home last night. It's not that he doesn't love spending time at GiGi & Grandpa Mac's (they're like celebs in his world), it was the horrible, no good, very bad FLU that reared its ugly head at around 11pm.Donuts helped, but, unfortunately, are not an actual cure for the common cold, and Hen-Bo is out for the count. Hopefully tomorrow looks better, but we'll keep fingers crossed that this doesn't travel any further through the house--if so, there are more than a few apple fritters, krullers and glazed custard-filled in my near future.
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