Tears flowed Wednesday as a donut and her hole were reunited after hours apart. “I never thought I’d see my hole again,” the donut said.

The breakfast treats, whose names are being withheld to protect them from being eaten, hadn’t seen each other since the hole was cut out of the donut at birth yesterday. The donut has been living in the display case, never knowing that her own hole was in a cardboard box just feet away.

Despite condemnation from the Ampastry International and DONUCEF, the practice of separating donuts from their holes continues in some of the stickier, Formica-clad corners of the world.

“It’s a silent holocaust of hearts broken and icing spilled,” said Madeleine Maplebar, spokesdonut for Making Families Hole, an advocacy organization working to end the practice. “Then again, they all wind up getting eaten anyway.”

Wear this shirt: if you’re a cop. It never hurts to keep a sense of humor about your job.

Don’t wear this shirt: around us in the morning. We have enough trouble not thinking about donuts as it is.

This shirt tells the world: “There’s a hole-shaped hole right in the middle of me.”

We call this color: It’s All Sprinkles Now, Baby Blue.

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