The Bottom of the Cereal

crazywriterMy mom has been big on health cereals for as long as I can remember. So, it’s no surprise I actually used to enjoy all the 7-grain rice kernel and oat clusters. When I was at a certain age (I don’t remember how old), she gave in and started buying us Lucky Charms.

There was no turning back. I had begun my journey of unhealthy eating. Lucky Charms were only the gateway to a long list of sugary cereals–Trix, Cocoa Puffs, Fruit Loops, Apple Jacks–the worst was Cookie Crisp. It’s considered unacceptable to take a handful of Chips Ahoy and pour milk over them, but that’s what Cookie Crisp is, essentially.

One health cereal survived the competition, the ever-growing craving I had for sweets. Triple Berry-O’s. Triple Berry-O’s were just that–Cheerio-like oat circles with dried raspberries, strawberries, and blueberries mixed in. They were delicious, but had one terrible flaw. The berries would always settle to the bottom of the box. I’d pour myself a bowl, only to get a mound of blah-blah-boring Cheerios. I’d keep pouring with no better results. Eventually, I’d declare the entire box of cereal a dud and threaten to throw it away. As more people ate of the dud box, however, more and more berries would show up, until there would be handfuls of dried tastiness at the bottom of the box.

Sometimes life is that way. I don’t know. I had an analogy, but it sort of went nowhere. So now I have a blog post about cereal and nothing else.

Happy eating!

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About Dauntlessly Cautious

I’m Abigail, a wildly emotional teenage blogger-empress. Sometimes I blog about my copious feelings. Sometimes–a lot, actually–I blog about my past. Sometimes it’s random and unexpected–romantic thoughts passing by, an odd dream I had, and so on. Oh yes, and I have a lot of opinions. Chances are you’ll disagree with at least one of them. I started blogging in April 2013, a little before my fourteenth birthday. Since then, I’ve published many posts–some groundbreaking and ingenious, some embarrassingly dismal. No matter their quality, however, they all play some sort of a part in my life story. If you’re in a stalking mood, read how my attitude changes from good to bad and back to better again. It’s all me. This is the mind of the odd, imaginative girl you see in the hallways, the cafeteria, and in classes. This is the heart of a human battlefield turned into a wonderful, scar-littered garden of hopes and dreams. Welcome to the two (or three, or four) sides of me–the daunting and the rash, the apprehensive and the careful.

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