Ever since I heard about the cronut, an unholy croissant/donut hybrid, I mentally bookmarked a simple life goal of eating one. Nothing big, or impressive, or urgent in the slightest, but just a little check in my head of things I want to do. I don’t even really like donuts, but something about the trendiness caught at me. Michael would call it the “scarcity principle” at play here. Regardless of what it was, I just wanted to eat one and be “in the know” before the cronut craze ran its course. But cronuts are in New York and I live in San Francisco.
Then, I read about the cronot. Since the cronut is apparently trademarked now, Posh Bakery in San Francisco churned out its own version. I said to Michael a few days ago, “Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to procure me some cronots!” Then I promptly forgot about setting this task for him. Today, he surprised me with a box of cronots. Mission accomplished. Life goal, achieved. Easy as three cronots in my tummy.