Not that you were asking, because who knows when you will
read this. I might be a little sensitive (and feel a little guilty) for what I
was eating.
Don’t judge.
Anyway, as I was standing there, looking around at my
newly-organized pantry...why yes, thank you for asking, I have been busy over
break…not with “Spring Cleaning” but with “Spring Cleaning Out”…pantry,
cabinets, closets…any place in which we can, and have, stashed our junk in the
past 8 years.
So yes, you were asking about the pantry specifically…ok,
maybe not but I’m going to tell you about it anyway. The pantry also got a fresh coat of paint. Well…and
new flooring. It was the last item on the flooring docket, and in order to put
in the floor, the shelves had to come out; their supports ran down to, but were not
attached to, the floor…you know how these home improvement projects go. One
thing leads to doing something else, which leads to something else. It’s lots
of fun.
While the supports were out, I decided to go ahead and have
Mr. Always Random take down the shelves (which, obviously, meant taking
everything out of the pantry), so we (you know what I mean by “we”…HE) could
paint the walls.
I didn’t choose anything fancy…just white. Didn’t even cost
anything else out of pocket…we used the same paint as the trim. Yes, it’s a
little shinier than I would typically choose, but it’s the pantry and the
high-gloss finish will wipe away dirt and grime (I sound like a commercial, don’t
I) much more easily. Eight years of fingerprints and smudges and all sorts of crud
were more than I could handle and I just wanted to get SOMETHING fresh and new
on the walls.
Phew, I feel better.
This was also a good time to take care of those “bought when
it was a great price and I probably had a coupon too but it got buried in the back of the pantry so it expired
before I could use it” clean out. There was only a handful of items, but I H.A.T.E. to
throw away money like that.
I hate to throw money away at all…not just in expired food.
I’m sure that surprises you.
Anyway…back to my snack. Actually, it wasn’t about my snack
as you may have surmised. Please don’t try to get ahead of my writing…you
should know by now that I will almost ALWAYS take you in a different direction
than the one in which you thought we were headed. We might come back to that
point, but the route might make you a little dizzy.
Feel free to take some Dramamine
before you begin reading my blog next time.
So the Pop Tarts were at my eye level. I love me some Pop
Tarts, but I don’t eat them anymore. Too many calories and no nutritional value
for the calories. Sure, I eat lots of other things that fall into that same
category, but I can live without Pop Tarts.
But the PBA and Mr. Always Random enjoy them on occasion,
thus they were in the pantry. For some reason the box caught my eye. I remember
reading this previously, but had forgotten that there are instructions on the
side for how to “warm” your Pop Tart. Instead of me typing it all out, I just took
a picture for you:
My favorite part is the “microwave for three seconds”. Three
seconds? Really? What can that possibly do? Apparently something because the
next step instructs you to allow it to cool.
Wow…that must be some kind of powerful microwave. Probably
not the cute little red one from Target like I have.
Also, please take special note of the line in red at the
bottom which states “If pastry is overheated, frosting/filling can become
extremely hot and could cause burns.”
It was that statement right there which immediately reminded
me of one of my roommates from my Junior year, second semester at IU.
Fernando. Yes, that was his real name. I don’t even remember
his last name. I think he just went by Fernando. He was like Madonna.
He was a freshman and wasn’t really at college to get an
education. Well, he WAS getting an education, I am certain, but in things on which I do not care to ruminate.
Rico Suave could have also been his name.
He was a ladies’ man in every way. And though he didn’t have
an accent, he could flip one on at the drop of a hat and it was very
convincing.
He had many “girlfriends” during the course of the semester
in which I knew him.
Anyway…during that time…one morning, he was fixing breakfast
for himself. Pop Tarts, actually…see how I’m bringing this around?
Well, he was using a pop-up toaster, and when the Pop Tarts
popped up, one of them started to fall. So naturally when he saw his breakfast
heading for the floor, he reacted in much the same way you or I would
react...he stuck his hand out to catch it.
Unfortunately for him, it fell with the piping-hot icing
side down…the side that landed on the upturned palm of his hand.
The same hand which received THIRD-DEGREEE burns from the
icing.
I don’t know what all this means except this…the PBA have
never once been allowed to “warm” their Pop Tarts. I don’t recall ever thinking
about why, but I’m pretty sure that I have my answer.
For the rest of you, here is a PSA: Heed the Step # 3 under
the Toasting and/or Microwave Instructions.
And that’s all I’ve got on that. Now I’m off to find another snack…which will
not be a Pop Tart.
Probably will not be a Pop Tart.
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