Dear Pop-Tarts®,
From the pop of the toaster to the final bittersweet bite, you have always been there for me. You are a true friend – perhaps my best friend – and I have to thank you for that.
Anytime I’m feeling down and need to look to someone for guidance, you’re always there, ready to lead the way.
When we first met so many years ago I knew there was something special between us. You and I formed a bond that day that would never be broken. I remember that day like it was yesterday…
The day was July 17, 2002. A five-year-old Michael raced into the kitchen after a long morning of cartoons. He needed fuel. But Mom had to go to work soon. What was she to do?
Michael needed a quick, nutritious breakfast to provide him with the energy required to complete all the important tasks a five-year-old is responsible for. There was only one answer. What was the answer, Pop-Tarts®? Why, the answer was you! Quick? Absolutely! Nutritious?...
Moving on.
Mom opened up your blue outer shell to reveal your silver inner shell. Gosh, you looked glorious. My eyes were so focused on the light reflecting off of your coat.
I never could have predicted what would happen next. Mom peeled back your metallic layer to reveal what is to this day the most beautiful sight I have ever been fortunate enough to gaze upon.
Your smooth, chocolatey skin was so enticing. I fell in love that day. “Mom. No! What are you doing?” I cried as she took you away from me and placed you into a hot-box of death. I wept as you were murderedbefore my eyes. Suddenly, I heard the sound. It was a sound that I have come to know quite well. Pop!
The rest was a blur. I was in such a state of shock. I completely blacked out. I can’t remember a thing. It wasn’t until later when I was washing the crumbs off my hands I even knew you were gone.
But you weren’t gone. I had no idea then, but I know it now. No matter how many times I mutilate your body with my teeth and send you into a pit of gastric acid, I know that you will always be back for another round.
I love telling that story. It seems no matter how many times we relive that day, we always find new tidbits to enjoy. The point I’m trying to make is that I love you. Pop-Tarts®, I loved you on the day we met, and I will love you until the day I die. And you will probably end up being what eventually kills me, because wow you are unhealthy.
You are one of the worst things to happen to my nutrition, but you are the best thing that will ever happen to my heart. You taught me how to love. Since the day we met, I haven’t stopped loving you. I love every version of you that comes my way. I love you on your sweet, strawberry days. I love you on your warm, hot-fudge-sundae days. I love you on your spicy, cinnamon days. I love you hot. I love you cold. I love you room-temperature. No matter where or what flavor you are, I love you.
I want to thank you in advance for getting me through college. School food is not my favorite, and you are both delicious and cheap (but priceless in my heart).
Pop-Tarts®, I cannot imagine a world without you in it. You keep me grounded. You keep me sane. Without you by my side, who knows where I would be? I’d probably be off in some trash heap digging for Toaster Strudel®. Just the thought of that sends a chill down my spine. Please, don’t ever let my life come to this. Don’t ever leave me. Don’t ever change. You are beautiful inside and out. You bring meaning into my life every day. Thank you. I love you, Pop-Tarts®.
Forever yours,
Michael