Corn Flakes

One of the perks to living at home is the cereal selection. I can testify that the options my son and I have now, DID NOT exist when I was younger.

Nope, we had either: Corn Flakes, Shredded Wheat,( the cereal packaged three to a bag and in the shape of Hot Pockets; these pockets were more of a choking pocket in your throat if you didn't get enough milk on them) or Cream of Wheat.

On a dark morning in the middle of winter winter mom, while still in her bathrobe stirring a pot of Cream of Wheat, is a memory engraved in my mind.
Back then, I would think: Not again. But the creamy wheat mixed with Reed's Dairy cream or Vitamin D milk along with sugar and butter was so tasty and did exactly what my mom said it would do: Stick to my Ribs. Which reminds me that Quaker Oatmeal was on the menu in those days.

Eating those generic breakfasts, now give me the authoritative rite to tell my son that back in the day we didn't have Cocoa Puffs, only plain 'ol Corn Flakes. None of the sugar infused cereals...

I discouraged Padre from buying them, with plenty of statistical evidence that it turns your brain to mush. So the fact that, despite all of J's options for breakfast, he is picking Corn Flakes.

You don't want Lucky Charms? No.

Rice Krispie? "no. I WANT Corn Flakes!" "OH, you mean FROSTED Flakes, let me grab 'em for ya, since its a Saturday, Son."

NO!

FROSTED MINI Shredded Wheat, little fella who woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

No affirmately followed along with upheaval. I grab the plastic cereal container, another amenity that didn't exist in our day, which is fine we read the boxes-- how we learned back in the day.

After pouring the milk over his Corn Flakes one morning, I waited to see what satisfaction he must be pulling from the bland flakes before I put the milk in the fridge. Curiously, like a chemist or scientist, I watched for the genuine pleasure to pour over his groggy face.

He casually reached for the Diner styled sugar dispenser and pouring out a stream of sugar Before I could juggle the milk jug and stop him, he'd poured out half the jar of sugar.

Hmm. No wonder the other cereals don't come close to the amount of sugar he can control that gets into his cereal.

I faintly recall doing the same thing as a kid.