Kinklings

Standard

“What in the hell are you doing in there?!”
My father had found me in Aunt City’s broom closet.
I had just polished off two of Aunt City’s powdered sugar doughnuts, and the evidence was all over my face and sweater. I told him I had to have them, I was very hungry, and I was ready to go home.
Very loudly he said, “What are you some kind of fat jerk?”
I had heard this expression before, usually when he tried to help with my math homework.
I’m not a thief, but I had to have those kinklings.

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