[dropcap]I[/dropcap] don’t know who came up with the flagrant idea to alter Cheerios from their virgin state. Furthermore, I’m unsure why they felt compelled to include quinoa and spelt in on the houseparty.
This morning, I settled down to prepare myself breakfast, the identical morning meal that I’ve eaten since my days in cloth diapers. I reached for the cereal box, only to find that it had been replaced. When I went to douse my bowl with milk, I discovered that it too had been sabotaged, it was gray-colored almond sap.
“Give it a chance,” my wife insisted. “It’s good for your cholesterol.”
I’m convinced that if gasoline were good for cholesterol, my wife would have a pitcher of it on our table.
I took my first bite.
“Well?” Jamie asked.
It tasted like the pellets I used to feed our kindergarten-class hamster, Fred.
“I’m trying to make sure that you live a long, long time,” she said.
I pushed the bowl of drenched cattle feed away.
“So that’s what this is about? That’s why you’ve hidden my Cocoa Puffs and whole milk?”
“Well, you’re not getting any younger, and your pants are looking tight.”
“And your face is getting, well, dried-up looking.”
“You don’t want to end up like your grandaddy,” she cautioned.
“What’s wrong with that? He died peacefully in his sleep – at least he wasn’t hollering and screaming like the passengers that were in his car.”