Before you Mom types, and you know who you are, start tsk-ing like a cricket glee club, I had just stopped in for a toficle, it being a hot day--well, for late October that is. No donuts for me, nosiree bob, none of those soft, warm, sweet confections made from scratch right there in front of me, their heady aromas wafting right up into my nasal declivities. Why not, you may ask? Because, dear readers, it would be wrong.