After 68 years on planet Earth, I finally suffered my first (and
hopefully last) Pop Tart injury! I blame myself for being careless, but I also
have to share some blame with my wife and HER two cats. Currently, I’m not
really claiming either of them as my own.
So, here’s what happened. Because she had to go in for
bloodwork, the wife was supposed to be fasting. She forgot and when I came into
the kitchen, she had a Pop Tart already in the toaster. Fortunately, her alert
husband pointed out her error! When I asked if she had heated it, she said no
(or at least that’s what I heard). I pushed it down prepared to help her out,
because you know, once you’ve unwrapped a Pop Tart, somebody’s got to eat it.
Right?
Now, the toaster is set on 2. Always. Why the dial goes all
the way up to 11 is beyond me. (It really only goes up to 7, but that one was
for all the Spinal Tap fans out there.) Because Cat #1 was camped out in front
of the toaster, I failed to notice that the wife had turned the dial to
somewhere between 3 or 4. Cat #2 was already strategically staking out a spot
directly between my feet, poised to trip me at a moment’s notice.
Now, just a quick safety tip. A Pop Tart that survives two
cycles in the toaster will pop up at around 1000 degrees and no matter how
close you are holding the plate to the Pop Tart, when you pick it up with your
bare fingers, you WILL drop it. Pretty much immediately.
Anyway, back to the story. So, after one bounce on the
counter, the evil Pop Tart headed for the floor, where it landed on the tail of
Cat #2. (Cat #1, obviously bored out of his mind, moved not an inch.)
Foolishly, I used my already burnt fingers to reach for the Pop Tart and rescue
the tail of Cat #2 who reacted to my panic by jumping away as fast as possible.
The Pop Tart flipped over, cracked open, and spilled a huge glob of the
Strawberry filling onto the top of my foot. The filling of course being liquid
was about 2000 degrees.
Did I mention, I was barefoot and at this point in great
pain and distress? Cat #1, still bored, looked at me like I was nuts, as I
tried to reach a napkin, paper towel, dishcloth, or anything else that I could
use to wipe the lava off my foot. If any such help was available, it was
probably under him, so I used my previously burnt finger while attempting the
balance and flexibility test of trying to get my foot into the sink and under
some cold water. The wife looked on without comment. Probably a wise decision.
In all seriousness, I ended up with a quarter (okay, maybe a
nickel) sized burn that really hurts. Nice blister with deep red edges! And of
course, new respect for Pop Tarts and their ability to inflict injury to those who
are careless in the kitchen! I’ll live. Anyway, thanks for reading! Be safe and
let me know if you’ve ever been attacked by a breakfast food. I’m sure there
are some good stories out there.
