Since childhood, I’ve had a crush on you, and I always will love your big, blue eyes.
You make lots of dough and share it happily with everyone. Most people appreciate the sweetness you bring to a room. They don’t care that your laughter is canned.
Nothin’ says Lovin’ like something from the oven, you kept crooning. I believed you. Oh, how I believed you.
But after chewing this over, I’ve determined that our relationship is toxic.
The past year or so, with me eschewing wheat and processed foods, the tension between us has been rising. You’ve hardly touched my lips. My heart is cold to your smooth, buttery caress. And while your love for my hips and thighs has been constant as long as we’ve known each other, it’s time for me to roll away from this relationship.
Flaky, I know.
My new friends Udi, Rudi and Bob are helping me get through (we meet down at the red mill sometimes), and because of them, my stomach doesn’t feel so queasy and bloated anymore. I’ve stopped sneezing and blowing my nose all the time.
I wish you all the Pillsbury’s best,
Note: Poppin has been trying to win back my love with some gluten-free options. It’s a sticky situation.
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