The Truth About the Pop Tarts

No, this isn't an expose' on how Kellogg's brand of toaster pastries will kill you because of the manufactured sugar replacers and toxic preservatives in the artificial fruit filling and suspiciously always moist crust.

What it is, is a confession.

We buy the big boxes. You know the ones you get at Costco? The four-pack of 36 count? The BULK size that are meant to last through the nuclear holocaust? Yea, those ones. Well…those last about a week in my house. Why? Is it because we eat them three meals a day? No, they're just for breakfast, silly. Is it because everyone in my house loves them so? No. In fact I'm the only one (usually) who eats them.

The truth is…I have six to four a day.

OK, ok, not EVERY day. But when I make them, I make MANY. And here's why.

1) First I turn the broiler on. Yes, that's the broiler, as in OVEN.

2) Then I tear off a square of foil wrap.

3) I place the pop tarts on the foil and then,

4) carefully place them in the oven.

5) Then I go check my email.

6) Not until smoke begins to billow out of the oven do I remove the pop tarts from said smoking oven.

Which means I must repeat steps 2-5. If I were smart, I'd stop at step 4, but I'm a woman who likes to learn things the hard way.

When the smoke is once more billowing from the kitchen and the fire alarm is screaming, I take these out, too.

Then I follow steps 1-4 again, this time determining to wait in the kitchen, where I must entertain myself by either pacing the kitchen floor, checking the fridge for possible lunch options, or dancing to the music that plays incessantly in my head. (Today it's Panic at the Disco, the entire Vices and Virtues album.)

I also do a lot of peeking into the oven.

When the pop tarts are nice and browned and just beginning to bubble on top. I take them out.

There! Cooked to perfection.

Don't judge me.