POP TARTS

 

I had a little vacation last week. Went to Galveston with my son, an old friend and his son.
As it happens my old friend, Jeffers, he married my ex-wife. That makes him my son’s step-dad. And his son, Dan-O, is half brother to my son.
We are all friends and fathers and sons.
Anyway we have a B&B In Galveston for two nights, and did a little fishing.
At the B&B the counter is cluttered with all sorts of snacks; chips, jerky, trail mix, ect.
The last night there I woke up about 4 a.m. and went into the kitchen looking for a little snack. Right next to the toaster was a single foil pack of Pop Tarts. I looked around a little and decided on the Tarts, got a bottle of water and went back to bed and snacked out.
The next morning I get up and I’m having a cup of coffee.
Dan-O comes in and starts rummaging through the snacks.

 Now Dan-O, he is 21 and an ace Poly-Sci student at the University of Texas. He is 20, but in some ways he is still about 16.
And he is rummaging through the snacks, and I sense an increase in his desperation, and finally he says, to no one in particular “I thought I had some Pop-Tarts here”.

Oh no!

I stayed quiet as a mouse. He continued rummaging a bit and finally says “Has anyone seen my Pop Tarts?”
Its just he and I there so its hard not to address the question. And I can tell by the wild look in his eye that those Pop Tarts mean a whole lot to him. I know how he feels.

Obviously, I have reached a moral dilemma. I can do one of two things:

1. Tell him the truth, that I ate his Pop Tarts
2. Help him LOOK for his Pop Tarts.
    

“Dan-O, I hate to tell you this but I got up last night and ate your Pop Tart. I’m so sorry. I really am”
He was crushed. It was like a dagger through his heart. His knees buckled and he looked to the heavens and let out the most pitiful moan I have ever heard. If I didn’t already feel badly enough now I felt even worse. He went back to his room.

 I went outside. Jeffers was smoking a cigarette.
“Jeff, I’m afraid I ate Daniels Pop Tart last night. It was his only one”
Jeff looked up, alarmed.
“Oh no” he said.
I could tell it was pretty serious.
“How long has Dan-O been having a Pop Tart for breakfast every morning?” I asked.
Jeff looked at me, dead serious.
“Ever since he had teeth”