Archive for May 10th, 2009
Yesterday, in an effort to rouse the boy from sleeping at a time when most people are already up and mowing the lawn, I yelled downstairs to ask if he’d like some breakfast.
When a suprising “yes” confirmed his interest in eating as well as his actual state of being in the land of the living, I realized I didn’t really have anything remotely healthy to make. I conceded by taking a tube of Pillsbury cinnamon rolls out of the fridge.
I unwrapped the tight, silvery paper and set them on the counter for a mere four seconds while I preheated the oven. As I dialed in the temp (love my convection microwave), a loud “POP!” shattered the silence and startled me.
My first reaction was to look at my jeans. I’d popped a button once before, on a pair of brown dress slacks, and was familiar with the drill: pull down the shirt, find a jacket and some safety pins and hunker down behind a desk for 8 straight hours. In retrospect, it was a humiliating experience but I was fortunate it had been the front and not the back blown out. Lucky for me, I was home and could change before anyone noticed.
Convinced I’d blown the button and it’d dented (or worse, chipped) my stove, I felt around for evidence. Nothing.
Still curious, I set the oven temperature and went back to my tube of cinnamony goodness to discover the roll of rolls had popped itself. Instead of a perfect cardboard cylinder, doughy bits now squirted free of their squished situation, puffing through the grease-spotted cardboard seams. I just nodded and smiled sympathetically as I twisted the can to let the little ones out of their confinement. I have more in common with Poppin’ Fresh than most people know–and I’m not talking the giggle when he gets poked.