UnPop-Tart

I know better, I really do. I know they aren't good for me. I know they aren't healthy in any respect, even though the packaging claims they contain seven essential vitamins and minerals and zero grams of trans fat. I know not to feed them to my kid because they shoot his blood sugar up through the stratosphere, where it lingers for the better part of the morning, making him cranky and me miserable.

But even knowing all that, I can't help myself -- I love Pop-Tarts. I even bought a toaster once just because it had a Pop-Tart setting.

I don't usually buy them (see above paragraph re: Mark's blood sugar). But Mark was gone, and I had a moment of weakness while strolling through the grocery store. OK, maybe it was more impulsive ("Mmmmm, Pop-Tarts!") than weak, but whatever, I ended up with a box of chocolate frosted Pop-Tarts.

So this morning, I unwrapped the foil packaging, placed my Pop-Tart into the toaster, and marveled at the marketing genius who put together the words "toaster" and "pastry." (I mean, really--when was the last time you said "Do I want something from the toaster, or do I want a pastry? Wait, I know--I'll have BOTH!")

It wasn't long before my breakfast was cooked, and I reached in carefully to retrieve it. And that is when my morning joy disintegrated...along with my Pop-Tart, which had somehow wedged itself between the two hot shards of metal that hold the bread slices in the toaster.

Damn...if you think a Pop-Tart is bad for your body, you oughtta see what it does to a toaster! As soon as you crack the outer shell (with say, a knife or fork you mistakenly think will pry the pastry loose), all the chocolately gooey-ness melts out, seeping into the toaster crevices, and coating the metal parts. And once that Pop-Tart is broken, forget getting it out of the toaster--it's like pulling a cracker across a cheese grater--crumbs EVERYWHERE.

Guess I'm buying a new toaster this weekend.