My Favorite Is Cherry.

Today I came home from work in a funk. It was one of those days where I never totally woke up this morning, and no matter much I ate I never actually felt full.

Clearly enough was enough and I decided to take matters in my own hands.

And so when I got home I ate two Pop Tarts.

Which means I actually ate four Pop Tarts. Because of the packaging on Pop Tarts is dumb.

That is 800 calories of Pop Tarts!

I was partially relieved because finally the box was finished and I knew I would no longer be tempted. Pop Tarts are one of those things that my mom never bought us as kids because Pop Tarts demand to be eaten all in one sitting.

Which reminds me. The cereal aisle is really bad news for me. The whole dang aisle. I don't much get into ice cream or donuts or hot dogs or whatever, but Cheerios! Cheerios are the greatest and I can eat a whole box, bowl after bowl after bowl. And that's the plain Cheerios, don't even get me started on Wheaties. Ohh, Wheaties! And Frosted Mini Wheats! (I digress.) Cereals and Pop-Tarts are things that just cannot exist in my home or I will blow up like a marshmallow (ohhh yeah, marshmallows too, mmmm), and so once I stuffed the last of the Pop Tart in my face in one big piece and I knew it was over, and that I'd never buy Pop Tarts again, and that I was going to be okay, well, it was a relief.

Then The Husband came home and said, "I have a treat for you!"

And of course when I looked at the bag he was carrying I saw that unmistakeable logo on the front. POP. TARTS. (Did you see that one coming?)