1
The Backstory
I was out of vacuum cleaner bags.
Company was coming, and the carpet needed
cleaning.
Without its bag, the appliance was a useless,
disabled shell of its former self.
(I know because I tried vacuuming without a bag.)

2
The Seduction
I was forced to go to Ace Hardware on a
maintenance mission.
In housewares, the cover of a Popover Pan Box
caught my attention.
The picture of steaming, golden brown rolls spilling
over their non-stick containers, called to me, tempted me,
lured me.
“Buy me, bake me, serve me,” went the siren song of
the Popovers.

3
The Fantasy
I succumbed.
I bought the Popover Pan with its six linking, non-stick tins.
I bought it despite the fact I hardly cook and never bake.
But I bought the dream of preparing a popover and tearing
it open, releasing the steam, slathering its warm, chaste
interior with strawberry butter and then … devouring it!

4
The Update
I’ve become proficient at baking popovers.
I’m now known as The Popover Queen.
I serve friends warm-from-the-oven popovers with
assorted butters: strawberry butter, maple butter, herb butter

5
Further Update
My lust for them has not diminished.