A donut hybrid. Or fourbrid, as it were
Christmas is great cause all the relatives come over, and the kids come over. Familial relations are, uh, not too get to technical, but I think family relations are based around keeping each other alive. That is, kin selection. It is such that altruism only survives as an evolutionary train (giving ones life for another, in the extreme) if the genes for that can somehow survive. That only works if one is altruistic towards those that share the same genes, i.e. family. In that sense the family urge to feed each other was both biologically sound and pleasant. Until someone invented donuts.
I am not much of a foodie, but there are certain things that make me twitch. Milk toffee for example. And butter cake. I can literally eat a dish of these things if left to my own devices. The family brings it over in boxes and puts it in front of me. So I eat. Then the aunts drop off the kids, go to Odel and come back with donuts. I daresay that I do go nuts for donuts (the brand being gonuts), especially the hot pink love. Then there are dinners, and friends in town and you go out for drinks, and then the roadside joints, and the burgers, and cheese roti.
Sometimes I rather feel like a denizen of the Colombo zoo. Everyone comes and they’re excited to see you and they feed you all kind of furtive treats, and leave. And then you’re in the same zoo, same chaps, same watering holes, waiting for the people to visit again.