RICKY BLUE

Why do you think cops love 'em?

Last spring I was at my dentist's office in Dollard des Ormeaux. He was inspecting my daughter's wiggling baby teeth.

As I gazed out the window, I noticed a brand new building on the corner of the Marché de l'Ouest parking lot. It was gaily decorated with banners and posters.

"They're opening a Krispy Kreme doughnut shop right here?" I asked him.

"Next week," he said, smiling mischievously. "Imagine - running a dental clinic for children and having someone open a sugar factory next door? It's a gift from the gods!"

A week later my cousin and her young daughter were visiting from out of town. I fed them barbecued steaks with spices, Montreal-style. Subsequently, after the meal we were all desperate for something sweet. I suggested that I take the kids out to find some dessert.

That's why I spent Saturday night at the doughnut shop. We parked in the darkness and headed toward an island of light and happiness.

The place was packed and a party was going on. The sound of Oldies music caressed us with a sweetness that was only a hint of the sweetness to come.

Smiling uniformed staff greeted us with hot, fresh doughnuts. We ate as we walked beside a long window behind which we could see the doughnuts being made: circles of dough conveyed down an assembly line into the fat, then flipped and fried on the other side; continuing under a miniature car-wash device that sprayed them with a thick coating of white sugar; then trundling along to a final platform where workers scooped them up into boxes.

Thirty sticky little faces pressed up against the glass, squealing with delight. They trembled with joy and wonder to witness such a miracle of creation!

By the time I reached the order desk I had already consumed five free samples. I could have walked out then, my craving well-satisfied. But by then I felt obligated to purchase at least a dozen 'Originals.'

My kids were not ready to leave at all. They had joined the excited crowd all riding the rapture of a massive sugar rush. Each one of them had also eaten five of these suckers. It is so easy to do.

When these doughnuts are fresh they are so soft and sweet that they go down in a couple of bites. You can eat five of them before you realize what you've done.

Then they hit you from behind.

They are like a kid's version of 'shooters' in a bar. Consume five and before you know it you're grinning from ear to ear, moving to the music, talking too loud and gesticulating wildly.

The same thing was happening here.

A five-year-old boy, who had been there longer than we had, was so happy he was positively glowing. I could only guess how many doughnuts he had had. Perhaps five. Perhaps twenty-five.

He whirled around the entire group. Then he grabbed my nine-year-old daughter who was a good head taller then him and began dancing with her. Then, other kids followed his lead. Yes, kids were spontaneously dancing to the 1950s music in the Krispy Kreme shop. All hopped-up on sugar.

I sat down and smiled at the Dionysian revelry all around me. It was truly a wonderful site to behold. Then I ate another doughnut.