On Mondays I have the opportunity to help out with Mrs. McDonald's first grade class at Muessal Grade School. The hour I am there is usually my favorite hour of the week. My duties generally include reading books about fish and dinosaurs or helping students add apples or cars. Last week we covered counting by fives and tens.
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In all the years that I've worked with grade school children, I've yet to discover one child who can correctly pronounce my last name. In fact, most teachers also can't quite get it right. Mrs. McDonald was no exception. On my first day in her classroom, she attempted to introduce me by both my first name and last name. She then asked the class to say hello. Hilarity ensued. All of the kids got the 'Dan' part correct, but the 'Asleson' part sounded like a combination of a Ron Santo and John Madden speaking mild vulgarities. Mrs. McDonald then asked me how I would like to be addressed. Mr. Asleson obviously was not an option. Mr. Dan seemed to be OK and so did just plain Dan. I really didn't have a preference, so I responeded "It doesn't matter to me."
One young boy smiled big and said, "OK, Mr. Doughnut." Everyone, myself and Mrs. McDonald included, laughed a bit. Then Mrs. McDonald asked the class to call me Mr. Dan and class proceeded. I attempted to adjust to the new classroom, but my mind was stuck at the point where the young boy referred to me as a fried dough ball. Doughnuts had not been mentioned at all. I know I'm not exactly as fit as I was when I graduated from college, but had I really let myself go that badly? Did this six year old simply say out loud what others had only been thinking? Maybe he just had doughnuts for breakfast. Perhaps, but regardless of the intentions the simple phrase has haunted me to this day.
Every week since then, I've walked into Mrs. McDonald's classroom only to be greeted by 14 childrens saying "Hello Mr. Dan" and one child screaming "Hello Mr. Doughnut." Every week, he gets scolded and looses recess privileges for the day. Yet, he persists. Despite the comedic value of being called Mr. Doughnut, the persistence only confirms my fear the I'm shaped like a doughnut, and only one person is brave enough to tell me to my face.
In a little less than 12 hours I will walk into that classroom and will no doubt be reminded that I am Mr. Doughnut. I'm pretty sure this is how eating disorders start.
I couldn't resist posting this interview Dan!
Sorry it's kinda long but it's funny!
Interview With Mr. Doughnut
taken from: www.lowcarbluxury.com
"You know, being a doughnut isn't as easy as it may look! I've got to look my best everyday, and I have to be the best tasting thing you've ever met," some sprinkles fall off the doughnut as he coughs up some sugary jelly. The mass of dough and sugar speaks roughly with a slight Brooklyn accent, his gargantuan body trembles, almost as if it's about to burst.
I steady myself, constantly trying to keep my gorge down, trying not to betray my true identity — a low-carber. I look at him squarely, his chocolate eyes peering into my soul, but I proceed with the questioning.
"Mr. Doughnut, why do you consider yourself a favorite within your class of sugary sweets?"
The mass of horrific fried sugar and flour laughs, my stomach turns at the sight. He settles himself, picking up a few stray sprinkles and stuffing them into his mouth. He looks back at me, his eyes glazed with sugary venom.
"Why Mrs. Rogers, I am the most sinful of them all. No human can resist me. They all know that I am the worst thing they can put into their mouths, but they all reach out to me, time and time again. I am a sinful, sweet, and supreme little temptation."
He glares back at me, the corners of his smile drooling and oozing with jelly.
"You're proud to bring people to heart disease and obesity? You like causing people pain?"
I am outraged at the thought of this thing intentionally causing so many people the pain of sugar addiction and the resulting health problems. I take a deep breath, steadying myself for his answer.
"Of course I am! But it's their choice, Mrs. Rogers. Like I said, all I do is look my best and keep my sweet reputation consistent. It's the people who buy me and eat me that are to blame! I am what I am, and I'm proud of it!"
The doughnut wipes a powdered sugar mustache off his face and looks at me point-blank, awaiting another question.