The Snacker and the Universe

I managed to do what’s damn near impossible for most people: I burned my microwave dinner.

Last time I was at the store, I happened upon some frozen “lean gourmet” pepperoni pizza snackers.

Hm. A way to get my pizza fix that’s both lean and gourmet? Sign me up.

They weren’t bad. I made a few earlier this week and they swiftly turned from frozen, Barbie-sized beanbags into small, poofy pillows of deliciousness. I decided tonight I needed to revisit them…all six that came in the box.

Somewhere in between arranging them on a plate and pressing the microwave’s start button, my brain went haywire. I read that six snackers took two minutes, so in they went.

For some reason I pressed the six instead of the two.

While they met their hellish demise, I went about some chores in other parts of the house. When I returned, the kitchen reeked of burned snackers.

They were no longer the pillowy gems that I’d made earlier in the week. They’d been defeated by the heat, shrinking to half their size and turning into something resembling smoldering bits of meteor debris.

Bummed and still hungry, I pried them off the plate, put them in a sandwich bag and made my way outside to the trash. It took exactly seven steps for the bag to succumb to their fury and begin to melt.

I tried my hand at the microwave again, this time settling on a bag of steamed veggies. Mmm. Not snackerish whatsoever, but also not smoldering. It’s something.

Tonight I am thankful the snackers didn’t somehow manage to be a catalyst for burning down the house. Their stench has slowly infiltrated most rooms, but I think the trashcan outside received the worst of it. In a weird way, perhaps the universe was reminding me that I’d not yet consumed my recommended daily quantity of veggies — or perhaps I’m simply rationalizing my air-headed ways. Regardless, I am with veg and sans-snacker, and will gladly close the book on today’s meal mishap. Read carefully, hungry people.

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