that’s what we called them when he brought them home to us in that plain white box that meant one thing:
except this plain white box held plain cake doughnuts…no frosting. no sprinkles. no custard….
we imagined them to be the doughnuts one bought to say:
“you did a subpar job”
“you barely passed your exams”
“it’s not me; it’s you”
first world problems, i know, but it is now an inside joke with my oldest son ever since my ex brought us home a box of plain cake doughnuts. they actually weren’t that bad once we got past the disappointment of them not being chocolate.