Open Letter To: The Cookie and Cream Pop Tart's In My Pantry!!!

Dear Cookie and Cream Pop Tarts In My Pantry,

Pop Tarts we need to talk. I heard you calling my name last night while I was trying to relax in front of the boob tube. And yes, once you even tempted me into the pantry to grab your package, but I resisted the urge. Although before leaving the pantry out of the corner of my eye I discovered a lone Pop Tart laying on the shelf in a zip lock baggie. Probably a left over from my sons breakfast. I looked at the Pop Tarts rectangular body through the baggie and my stomach started to over rule my mind. To me you looked like a fine, yet delicious, piece of art Pop Tart. The way your white creamy inside is framed by the chocolate outer edge is a master piece. And just knowing that creamy filling is made from chemicals that I could never pronounce, let alone spell, makes eating you all the more titillating my beautiful Pop Tart. In the end, I couldn't resists your advances and gave in to temptation. If I only could have been half good and eaten your single brother in the baggie. No, I had to go for a package of my own and a glass of chocolate milk to wash your Pop Tart goodness down. Pop Tart you were worth every empty calorie, or so I thought.

During my easy recovery run this morning it seemed you were still with me my dear Pop Tart. My legs felt weighed down by your chemical make up. The chemicals were also not sitting so well in the stomach area that desired you so much last night. In fact my stomach was on the verge of rejecting you about half way through the run. Luckily we made it back to the house without incident, keeping my soon to be two year record intact.

This is hard to say Pop Tart, but I think the thing we had is over. Let's call it one night of pleasure that at least I'll never forget. The minutes of gratification was not worth the pain that I dealt with the next morning. So, I guess it's goodbye sweet Pop Tart. On second thought, maybe it was the frickin chocolate milk's fault. Peace Out!!!