Lynnette was hellbent on getting her free Mini-bon Cinnabon for Nurses’ Week. We stopped by the Ka Makana Ali’i location today. I asked her to pick me up “some” for dessert tonight. The bag sat on the island in the kitchen all afternoon. I was at the dinner table watching Fast Five (featuring the strongest, most durable tow cables and equipment known to man) when Lynnette asked if I would like for her to heat up my Cinnabon. “That would be great,” I said. A few moments later, the microwave beeped.
Obviously, this picture was taken after the whole ordeal, but this is what Lynnette looked like as she sauntered over to the dinner table. “Here’s some extra frosting if you want,” she said. She opened the container.
I would have paid serious money for someone to have caught my facial expression on camera. I had a toothless grin stretched across my mouth, but my jaw dropped when I saw the sadness awaiting me. “It’s a mini-bon!” Lynnette shouted, keen to my disappointment. I started laughing. Hard. “Who ate my Cinnabon!” I shouted. Lynnette laughed too. “I’m so sorry! It’s a mini-bon!” she kept saying over and over. I tried to talk through the laughter. “I haven’t been this disappointing in anything is such a long time,” I said. Tears were running from the corners of my eyes.
I know you had to be there, but I’m still laughing about it. I looked forward to this treat since the afternoon. I was ready to eat my Cinnabon piece-by-piece from the outside in. And then I found out that there wasn’t much of an outside or an inside. I think it’s exacerbated by the fact that we drove a little out of the way to get Lynnette her free piece, and this is ultimately how it turned out. I already know it’s going to be one of those things that live forever. Every time we get a Cinnabon, memories of abject disappointment will fill me with laughter.