Amonymous is on his second frosted with sprinkles at the Lakewood Dunkin.  We are discussing our adventure to come. Playground. Target. Library.

"Here's my donut bones for you, Dad,"  he says, chewing.  I look.  He has devoured the top off of the donut and offered the rest to me.

His face is smeared with frosting from donut number one. "You're filthy. Wipe your face, please."

As he wipes, he notices a green smudge between his fingers that he can't remove. "Dad. I need help with this sprinkle stain."

"Sprinkle stain?" I say.

"Yeah, I have this sprinkle stain I can't get off."

"Bruce SprinkleStain and the SprinkleStreet Band?"  I say.

"DAAAD!"

I rise to wipe his hands. "You know that Bruce SprinkleStain song about Santa?"

"Yeah."

I break into Bruce.  "Oh, you better watch out, you better not cry, you better not pout, I'm tellin you why..."