I got out of bed this morning very reluctantly. I didn't sleep well last night--Tyler woke up a quadrazillion times and I had a bad dream that I was being eaten by a cougar. Actually Alexis was being eaten by a cougar, which is way worse. And I'm feeling slightly under the weather, which is bad because the weather right now is pretty crappy. But I got up looking forward to one thing: brown sugar and cinnamon pop tarts. The best pop tart EVER made. I was especially excited because yesterday I was fasting so I didn't get to have them, the biggest sacrifice of the day. So I came downstairs, grabbed a package of pop tarts, and counted the remaining packages. 1, 2, 3, and a 1/2. 3 more good mornings this week, unless I have to share with Tyler. I put the pop tarts in the toaster, turned it up slightly, and ran upstairs to get a few things. I was overcome with joy at the smell of the cooking pop tart as I came down the stairs. But as soon as I saw the streams of smoke coming from the toaster I let out a terror stricken "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!". I had burnt my pop tarts.
Fine. I wasn't going to let it ruin my morning. I went to the pantry, got another package, counted, 1, 2 and a 1/2, that's not so bad. I put another set in, turned down the toaster, and got on the computer to finish up some things for Alexis' school today. After a few minutes the smell of burnt pop tarts hit my nose. I thought I couldn't have done it again, it's just a lingering smell, but I turned around and realized I was wrong. I had burnt 4 pop tarts this morning! Not just any 4, but 4 BROWN SUGAR & CINNAMON POP TARTS.
And that's how my days have been lately. Hopefully things will turn around soon.
But not likely. I just went back to the toaster because I had left the second set of pop tarts in the toaster, leaning against the side the way they do, and they fused themselves to the toaster. Looks like I'll be needing a new one of those too.