When I think of the Pillsbury dough boy, I don't think Woo-hoo like some may. I get a little terrorized by the thought, but I have a deep love for the flaky layering goodness of his fluffy biscuits and sweet Cinnabon touch to his cinnamon rolls that I still choose to face that terror. Terror you ask?
Uh yeah! I first get a little anxious just grabbing the roll they are packaged in, worried it may unexpectedly burst while in transportation from fridge to counter. After slowly peeling the paper with ease avoiding any unnecessary movement I grab the spoon that's required for opening.
Think of the movie elf when he is winding the jack in the boxes. I have an irrational fear that the second I pop it open it will not just open, but completely explode into my face, possibly sending shrapnel from the metal end. I try every time to prepare myself looking over my shoulder as I push the spoon down, waiting for the pop, but it gets me every time and I never fail to gasp and/or jump.
So dear Mr. Dough Boy, your cuteness and round belly don't fool me, but I will keep coming back for more.
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