Just took a little inventory of the cupboard and noticed that I am what you might call long on cereal. As in there are about nine boxes in there.
And most of them, I must admit, are of the highly irresponsible variety, sugar-frosted this and honey-nut that. I even have a box of Froot Loops in there, seeing as how I am exceedingly fond of the flavor known as “froot.”
Yes. I admit it. When it comes to cereal I have the tastes of an 8-year-old.
I mean, here I am at an age where my doctors – and when you get past age 50, it’s always doctors, plural – would like me to be eating oatmeal three times a day ... and what am I sitting down to in the morning? Sugar-encrusted particle board chips. Also known as diabetes, high cholesterol and heart attacks in a bowl. What can I say? They’re magically delicious.
Not only that, I still buy cereal for the prize inside. Now, I actually have a pretty good reason for that: I collect cereal prizes, and have for decades. I have tons of them, going back to the 1950s and some Roy Rogers premiums from Grape-Nuts Flakes. I probably have the world’s premier collection of baking soda submarines (which, incidentally, never work) and plastic spoons shaped like cartoon characters.
I drink a certain brand of tea for the same reason – you get a little ceramic figure in every big box of Red Rose tea bags. I have enough of those little things to start my own knickknack shop. And if Cracker Jack still put decent prizes in the box, I’d be eating that, too.
But back to the cereal. I obviously don’t see anything wrong with a grown man – notice I did not say adult – sitting down to a big bowl of Apple Jacks in the morning.
I figure it like this: At that hour of the day, you have no idea what awaits you. It may be a good, but there’s a good likelihood that you will have an absolutely rotten day. That being the case, you might as well start the day with something you enjoy, something a little fun, and mostly something that takes off a little of the pressure that comes with being a grown – again, notice I did not say adult – person.
Granted, your physicians may not see it that way. As I mentioned, mine certainly don’t. But if they had their way, I’d weigh 150 pounds and look like a fence post with ears and would run, RUN, when someone even mentioned the words “Cocoa Krispies.” And I have never run from Cocoa Krispies.
My problem is storage. I only have so much room in the pantry for cereal, and I’m afraid I’ve exceeded my limit. Maybe I ought to start buying those little variety-pack boxes. My Grandma Redmond used to keep those on hand when we kids went to visit, and we always liked them, although I found the serving size to be a little skimpy. I was a big cereal eater, even as a kid.
Oh, well. That’s a problem to sort out another day. For today, the only question I have to deal with is what to have for breakfast, and you know what?
Poached eggs sound kind of good.
And most of them, I must admit, are of the highly irresponsible variety, sugar-frosted this and honey-nut that. I even have a box of Froot Loops in there, seeing as how I am exceedingly fond of the flavor known as “froot.”
Yes. I admit it. When it comes to cereal I have the tastes of an 8-year-old.
I mean, here I am at an age where my doctors – and when you get past age 50, it’s always doctors, plural – would like me to be eating oatmeal three times a day ... and what am I sitting down to in the morning? Sugar-encrusted particle board chips. Also known as diabetes, high cholesterol and heart attacks in a bowl. What can I say? They’re magically delicious.
Not only that, I still buy cereal for the prize inside. Now, I actually have a pretty good reason for that: I collect cereal prizes, and have for decades. I have tons of them, going back to the 1950s and some Roy Rogers premiums from Grape-Nuts Flakes. I probably have the world’s premier collection of baking soda submarines (which, incidentally, never work) and plastic spoons shaped like cartoon characters.
I drink a certain brand of tea for the same reason – you get a little ceramic figure in every big box of Red Rose tea bags. I have enough of those little things to start my own knickknack shop. And if Cracker Jack still put decent prizes in the box, I’d be eating that, too.
But back to the cereal. I obviously don’t see anything wrong with a grown man – notice I did not say adult – sitting down to a big bowl of Apple Jacks in the morning.
I figure it like this: At that hour of the day, you have no idea what awaits you. It may be a good, but there’s a good likelihood that you will have an absolutely rotten day. That being the case, you might as well start the day with something you enjoy, something a little fun, and mostly something that takes off a little of the pressure that comes with being a grown – again, notice I did not say adult – person.
Granted, your physicians may not see it that way. As I mentioned, mine certainly don’t. But if they had their way, I’d weigh 150 pounds and look like a fence post with ears and would run, RUN, when someone even mentioned the words “Cocoa Krispies.” And I have never run from Cocoa Krispies.
My problem is storage. I only have so much room in the pantry for cereal, and I’m afraid I’ve exceeded my limit. Maybe I ought to start buying those little variety-pack boxes. My Grandma Redmond used to keep those on hand when we kids went to visit, and we always liked them, although I found the serving size to be a little skimpy. I was a big cereal eater, even as a kid.
Oh, well. That’s a problem to sort out another day. For today, the only question I have to deal with is what to have for breakfast, and you know what?
Poached eggs sound kind of good.