Remember when you were a kid and it was a big deal to go to the grocery store? Do you recall why it meant so much to you? Did it by any chance have anything to do with the venerated cereal aisle?
Ahh, that cereal aisle, offering children the grandest of choices in sugary foods known to man. Cereals of rice, corn or oats; transfused with amazing sucralicsious sugar.
Sugar frosted. Sugar filled. Sugar smacked.
Trapezoidal. Circular. Flaky. Woven.
Wonderfully formed shapes of wholesome goodness, infused with enough sugar to keep a kid hyper through the morning and sometimes, if you were lucky, right on up until the last school bell.
Cereal formed into little chocolate chip cookies. Marshmallows of all flavors and colors and shapes. Cocoa-laced puffiness that chafed the top of your mouth after the third bowl.
Peanut Butter. Chocolate. Strawberry. French Toast. Cinnamon. Fruity explosions that rocked your taste buds.
Cereal that talked to you, popped and crackled and snapped its approval. Cereal that sang its sweet tune from the kitchen to your bedroom, enticing you to rise from the warm grogginess of your covers and face the day. Cereal that offered you essential vitamins and whole grains and promises of a well-balanced breakfast.
Intricate little prizes of molded plastic, toys that pushed the imagination, secret rings of invincibility. Maps and puzzles and trivia on the back. Mail-in offers on the side that cost three box tops plus $1.99 shipping and handling.
Read the box while you slurp up milk and crunch your way through the foggy morning, building boundless energy through carbs and sugar and pure youthful vigor.
Ah, the magnificent cereal of my youth, you will always have a place close to my heart.