Growing up, my parents were like unicorns to me. I’d never seen anything like them, and everything they did was either magical, or confusing, or a mixture of the two. WOW they can reach high shelves! Wow they can walk down the stairs without holding onto the railing! Wow they can drive a car, drink coffee, bathe by themselves, and stay up late! I want to stay up late!
My dad was always the most fascinating. He had a huge bristley mustache and a deep voice, and he disappeared for hours upon hours out of the day to work at, get this, a space station! It took a few years to understand that NASA does a lot of clerical work and engineering and all that stuff that isn’t building rockets, but being little and dumb, none of that mattered to me. MY DADDY IS A ROCKET SCIENTIST AND HE FLIES AIRPLANES IN THUNDERSTORM! HE IS A UNICORN!
I spent so much time with my mom, that sadly, she got boring after a while. I knew what she was going to do and when she was going to do it- but my DAD? I didn’t spend enough time with him to be annoyed and bored by his daily routine. On Mondays through Fridays, I really only got to see my Dad for breakfast and dinner, and maybe some good old fashioned story time thrown in there, too. Watching him eat was always amusing to me, because of his big bushy mustache and its ability to hang onto things throughout an entire meal. It was downright hilarious
Breakfast was always the most interesting to me because my brother, mom and myself always ate the same thing- and he ALWAYS ate something different. We had our cereals, and he had “Life”. I’d always peer into his bowl and be confused, what is so special about this cereal that he eats it instead of Fruity Pebbles or Cinnamon Toast Crunch or Fruit Loops? My Dad wasn’t some kind of health nut with an aversion to artificial flavoring and sugar… so there must have been something special about this “Life” cereal he was always eating. If Daddy likes it, it HAS to be good!
One morning, I decided to try a bowl. I never ate it again. Must be unicorn food. Yuck.
My taste in sugary cereals of doom never changed. I frickin’ LOVE me some Cinnamon Toast Crunch, but I guess the part of me that knows I gave birth to 2 kids and my metabolism changed steered me away from them and toward healthier cereals. I still have my sugary gut-bombs, but only on special occasions. For the kids, I try to find them stuff they’ll still like that won’t crack them out on sugar. For me, I actually found a cereal “for adults” that’s pretty damn good. It has fruit clusters and yogurt clusters. It may not be magical marshmallows, but I can’t complain too much. Still, comparatively- the kids get the yummier ones.
I am not a morning person. I don’t like mornings. I just like to get THROUGH mornings without breaking something… or someone. On mornings where I am forced to wake up early to take a certain somebody to school, the last thing I want to do is work for my breakfast. Or anyone else’s. You get cereal, oatmeal, or a waffle. And not the home made kind because those bitches take a stupid amount of time to make. Basically- if it can’t be made in under 3 minutes on weekday mornings, it ain’t happenin’.
Naturally, my choice is my fruit & yogurt cluster-y Special K.
At 7am this morning, I dragged myself down the stairs after what has been a very long and stressful week. Scuffing my feet along the ground, I slowly made my way to the pantry, opened it, and grabbed my box of cereal. I don’t know why it is, but when I wake up in the morning, all I want to do is sit down. I want breakfast to POOF in front of me. Even pouring a bowl of cereal is too much work, especially on this exhausted Friday morning. Grumbling my way over to the counter, I opened the cabinets, pulled out a bowl, and put it down on the counter top- probably way harder than it should of been, just to warn the family that this was not going to be a morning they wanted to mess with me. I popped open the Special K box, turned it over, and shook.
You wanna know what came out? SAWDUST. SAWDUST CAME OUT. No, not real sawdust. C’mon. It was the remnants of what once was my beloved cereal.
Thinking this must have been some kind of cruel joke, I peered into the bag, only to realize the worst was true. Someone had eaten ALL OF MY CEREAL and put it back into the damn pantry. Or, should I say, SOMEONES. I know who. I think you do, too. It was the two little boys who are constantly requesting my cereal as a snack, or for breakfast, or for breakfast and a snack. The two boys who I am constantly reminding that they have their own MORE DELICIOUS cereal to eat, but they choose mine anyway.
I am their unicorn.
Okay, maybe not. I just made the mistake of choosing a cereal that tasted better than cardboard. Curse you, yogurt clusters!!
It’s no wonder my Dad ate “Life” cereal; he knew we’d never touch it, and that there’s nothing worse than waking up to a box of sawdust and disappointment in the morning.
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