Heather O continues to regale us with wondrous guest post tales.
We have an ongoing conflict at my house. It revolves around breakfast.
My husband is a man of healthy habits, more or less, except for the huge amounts of Diet Coke he imbibes each day. It’s a habit left over from his law school days where Diet Coke and Mountain Dew kept him alive. I know, I know, it’s appalling. If one is going to drink that much caffeine in one day, at least make sure it’s Dr. Pepper. Just because caffeinated soda has the same affect on your stomach as battery acid doesn’t mean it has to taste like it.
(Okay, yes, we might have the teeniest bit of conflict over caffeine and soda, too, but, as Eleanor of Aquitane says, every family has its ups and downs….)
But for breakfast, DH likes to keep it simple. Some toast with honey, a glass of juice, and a grapefruit. He says eating a grapefruit every morning makes him feel healthy, full of vim and vigor, more manly, perhaps. (I think it’s the part where he sections out every section of the grapefruit with a tiny paring knife that is the manly part.)
Me, I prefer cereal. Sugar cereal. Or, as my husband lovingly refers to it, Chocolate Sugar Bombs of Death.
The original term “Chocolate Sugar Bombs” belongs to Bill Watterston, creator of the comic strip “Calvin and Hobbes”. DH just added the death part for extra effect.
What can I say, I think it harps back to childhood memories of my mother coming home from the store with the coveted box of Captain Crunch cereal in the bag. My 5 brothers and sisters and I would grab for the box, fight for the toy inside, and pour ourselves some before it was all gone. A box of Captain Crunch doesn’t go very far in a household of 8, and we were soon forced to go back to spooning sugar on our Wheaties to get our sugar buzz.
So when I see gleaming boxes of Apple Jacks and Frosted Flakes (all close to free if you hit it right with sales and coupons), I find it hard to resist. I try to avoid the blatently hydrogenated cereals, which eliminates the favorite Captain Crunch, Raisen Bran Crunch (surprising, isn’t it?) and Fruity Pebbles (which, if you leave it soaking long enough, will turn your milk an appetizing shade of chartruse). But that leaves Apple Jacks, Frosted Flakes, Froot Loops, Honey Nut Cheerios, and Cinnamon Toast Crunch fair game for my pantry, all for a pittance. And I gather them all, like a chicken gathering her hens. Or, something like that, if hens came in flakes baked in sugar.
So I’m curious. Does anybody else have a mildly dysfunctional relationship with sugar cereal? (Although, now I think about it, I don’t know what a functional relationship with cereal would be.) Does sugar cereal represent something about childhood, or am I the only one here? And does anybody else think grapefruit is manly?
What does breakfast look like in your house? Some reporter asked that of Brad and Angelina once, actually. Right there on the red carpet, they started talking about Cheerios. It was the most normal thing I’d ever heard Angelina Jolie say.