Lately I’ve been thinking about cereal…..you heard me….cereal. It all started a few weeks ago when my good friend Nina (Thelma to my Louise) and I took Stella on joy ride to the states. It was a glorious day – we flirted with a cute border guard – enjoyed a delicious lunch on a sunny patio – and picked up a few boxes of the new fruity cheerios.
You see my son Tyler, aka baby boy, has a thing for cereal. Before you tell me this is a good thing – pointing out that it could be sex, drugs and rock-n-roll – you should know that even cereal has it’s downside. My idea of an appropriate cereal for Tyler usually has the fiber content of a redwood, while his contains a field of sugar cane. When he lived at home this consisted of hours and hours of negotiations, which quite frankly was exhausting.
It was so much easier for our parents generation. Negotiating wasn’t an option, the standard response to any disagreement was “because I’m the parent and I say so”. There also wasn’t all this emphasis on health, after all they were the generation that smoked and drank during pregnancy. This all worked in my favor, as my childhood criteria for selecting cereal was solely based on the toy in the box.
The only thing better than scoring a good toy was buying cereal before a camping trip. It was the only time my mom splurged for the package containing an assortment of mini boxes. Even though there were always a couple of duds and I had to duke it out with my brothers for the best picks, it made me feel like I was living high on the hog.
Poor Tyler didn’t have it so good, he often moans about the trials and tribulations of having a granola for a mom. Our usual compromise was honey nut cheerios, a happy medium between Captain Crunch and Oat Bran. Even though Tyler is no longer living at home and is probably coming off a Count Chocola high, I felt it was important to buy a few boxes of fruity cheerios in his honour. Tex, Maggie and I are slowly snacking on them, thinking of sweet baby boy.
You see my son Tyler, aka baby boy, has a thing for cereal. Before you tell me this is a good thing – pointing out that it could be sex, drugs and rock-n-roll – you should know that even cereal has it’s downside. My idea of an appropriate cereal for Tyler usually has the fiber content of a redwood, while his contains a field of sugar cane. When he lived at home this consisted of hours and hours of negotiations, which quite frankly was exhausting.
It was so much easier for our parents generation. Negotiating wasn’t an option, the standard response to any disagreement was “because I’m the parent and I say so”. There also wasn’t all this emphasis on health, after all they were the generation that smoked and drank during pregnancy. This all worked in my favor, as my childhood criteria for selecting cereal was solely based on the toy in the box.
The only thing better than scoring a good toy was buying cereal before a camping trip. It was the only time my mom splurged for the package containing an assortment of mini boxes. Even though there were always a couple of duds and I had to duke it out with my brothers for the best picks, it made me feel like I was living high on the hog.
Poor Tyler didn’t have it so good, he often moans about the trials and tribulations of having a granola for a mom. Our usual compromise was honey nut cheerios, a happy medium between Captain Crunch and Oat Bran. Even though Tyler is no longer living at home and is probably coming off a Count Chocola high, I felt it was important to buy a few boxes of fruity cheerios in his honour. Tex, Maggie and I are slowly snacking on them, thinking of sweet baby boy.
2 comments:
My favorite? Captain Crunch...even though it leaves tiny cuts on the inside of my mouth!! But shhhh, don't tell my kids!
My younger brother would ask for Cap'n Crunch for his birthday! That was the only time he got it. His three sisters liked it too, but have to admit didn't sacrifice birthday gifts to get it. Do you think it's more of a boy thing?
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