The Donut King of Muncie, Indiana

I’m the Donut King of Muncie, Indiana. Or at least I was.

No, not those kind of donuts. I don’t eat donuts, I do them.

Sunday I backed out my drive and executed quite possibly the most circular donut in the history of four-wheeled transport. Wasn’t it Da Vinci who could freehand a perfect circle? Well, my donut was kinda like that except way cooler.

After the donut, my wife, Annie, looked at me not the least bit impressed. In fact, she didn’t utter one word about how awesome the donut or I was. She said this, “You’re lucky you didn’t hit our mailbox.”

How un-cool is that?

We went Christmas shopping, stopped for pizza, and on the way home we decided to drive through a neighborhood near ours to checkout the Christmas lights.

I pointed out a house and referred to the well hung and planned décor as “classy.” Then we got into a debate on whether or not Christmas lights could be “classy.”

I lost.

As we were getting ready to leave the neighborhood, I goosed it a little while turning at a four-way stop. The backend of the truck just kept coming…and coming…and coming…It was crazy slick – so slick that even the Donut King couldn’t have foreseen its slickness.

Everything moved in slow-mo because we were traveling at roughly 5mph. We slid towards the corner of the intersection.

We sat in silence. Each of us thinking, “We’ll stop anytime now…anytime…wait, why aren’t we stopping…are we going to hit the sto….”

Thud.

Once we hit the stop sign, we stopped.

We were in someone’s yard who didn’t have lights – classy or otherwise – up at all.

Annie, 8.9999 months pregnant, started laughing so hard she nearly gave birth.

The Donut King of Muncie, Indiana, had just been dethroned.