Monday, September 29, 2008

Cereal Offenses

(pre-script: To get the most out of this post, read it while listening to the song " The Older I Get," by it on on my playlist, then come back and resume reading...I'll wait...) (...still waiting...and please note that for this post, I am waiting on the beach, because it is a happy place for me, and this post requires me to be in my happy place if I am going to be able to write it.)

Y'all, don't even get me started about breakfast cereal.
To my way of thinking, the eating of it was never meant to be a group event. I cannot abide sitting next to a person who is eating cereal. CAN. NOT. ABIDE. There are noises people make while eating cereal, even people who are polite and conscious of the fact that they are eating cereal around other people. And please don't make me LOOK at your cereal while you eat it. And please, please, when you are done with your cereal, do NOT, I repeat do NOT lift the bowl to your lips and drink the leftover milk. (!) CAN you even imagine the nerve!!!! I remember a time when some friends and I were eating breakfast together, and one friend ate a bowl of cereal, then offered the bowl with the leftover milk to another friend so that she could just pour her own cereal in the same bowl, and not have to pour any new milk or use a new bowl. Y'all, I almost threw up. In fact, just thinking about it makes me feel naseated again. I just wish I had never been there to witness that. The next best thing would be to have my memory purged of it forever. I will try to help the process of memory loss along by never speaking of it again. NEVAH!!!
"But Michelle,"
my imaginary reader is asking, "Do you ever feed your own children cereal?"
The answer is that yes, yes I do, in fact, feed my own children breakfast cereal in the morning, gentle reader. But the younger two are the only two who eat their cereal with milk on it; the older two prefer to eat their cereal dry, and drink their milk seperately...which totally works for me, peeps.
Friends, I eat cereal for breakfast, too, but even my own cereal can gross me out sometimes. (I have been known to have to stop eating mid-bowl.) but I do not sit at the table with the children and engage them in lively conversation during the process. I repeat,
I do not join them at the cereal breakfast table.
Instead, I stand above them at the counter, in an "I'm here to get you whatever you need" postition. Let's just call it one of those instances when a mom knows her own limits.*
"but Michelle,"
imaginary reader butts in, "What about the mother of the year award?"
don't worry, dear reader; I didn't apply.
"But Michelle,"
Yes, gentle reader, what is it this time?
"Michelle, you have talked about friends and your children, but you haven't yet shared about your husband."
Oh, alright, ALRIGHT, gentle reader, if that's what you really want to hear about...but I'm warning you up front that this tale will be sometimes ugly, painful, and generally traumatic. Here goes:
Most mornings, Derek does not stop to eat cereal at home before he leaves for work. If he did, I would be sure to give him SPACE in which to complete his cereal eating. I would try to stay down the hall in another room until he was all done, because peeps, it's true confession time, only this time, I'm confessing something about Derek. (I'm warning you, here's where it get's ugly) Derek is among the lift-the-bowl-to-your-lips-and-drink-the-rest-of-the-milk- set. Yes, yes he is. Makes me shudder. Makes me squirm. Makes me make the sour lemon face. (For the record, I do not try to convince him otherwise; I just try to be far, far away if I know he's about to eat a bowl of cereal or two.) This is working for us, generally,
(and it's a very large, important EXCEPT,)
...for the night a few weeks ago when Derek wanted to have some cereal after the kids were in bed. I'm all over the late night snack, peeps: I really am. It was just that homeboy chose cereal with milk as his late night snack, and homeboy wanted to sit next to me, where I was blogging, and homeboy brought his cereal right next to me, where I was sitting, yes, let me repeat, he sat next to me, where I was sitting, on my left side, and proceeded to eat his breakfast cereal. And. drink. the. milk.. Even with the cereal box barricade I put up, I was grossed out.
Y'all, I gotta sign off now, before I faint.


P.S. And don't even get me started about dirty cereal bowls left in the sink with some of the milk and cereal flakes still in them. Y'all, I can't even type that without getting queasy.

*Not that a mom ALWAYS knows her limits, but on this point I have always known.


vic-a-la said...

you kill me belley. to each his own! i'm with you on the mouth noises factor. the rest i can handle...

since you are such an astute woman with extreme observational skills, you may be wondering...
how is it that vic-a-la is posting a comment in what should be almost the busiest time at work, when the parents all need something before they pick up there kids and a million leftover children converge in the office? well, observant one, allow me to enlighten you...

it all started on saturday afternoon when i was cleaning up the garden and front of the house. i washed the patio furniture cushions, even, which happened to be coated in stray cat mange and thousands of fluffy, sticky pampas grass seeds. you know, the huge bushy reedlike plants that grow enormous stalks topped with white feathery ends, almost like a foofy paintbrush? let's just say that there are 2 particular homes down the lane from us that fail general upkeep (can i mention the mold in the windows?) between these 2 aforementioned homes lives the dastardly 10 by 15 foot clump of pampas grass which feels completely comfortable sending it's minions of fluffy seeds to fly over the park, land in everyone's (hear, MY) yard/garden to take root and coat the aforementioned patio furniture, making it a most unwelcoming location to relax in.

yes...i took it upon myself to chop the fluffy stalks down and lay them at the back of their house area (on top of the 5 foot weeds). i laid them away from the wind tunnel that would carry them back to my home, happily. what was not happy was the fact that i learned too late of the sharp disposition of the pampas reeds. as a result of my noble (albeit slightly illegal?) adventure, i was then covered in cuts on my forearms, legs, hands and worstly, yes, worstly, my fingers. imagine with worst paper cut, friend... times about 100 of them. ow.

that evening i failed to sleep. everything hurt and the covers pulled at them. after church, and costco, i did nothing productive. i was not feeling like my best me.

enter evening 2:
dev goes to band practice and i stay home to lounge and watch the movie he saw last night (as i tried to go to sleep early...weary from my battle) ear had been bothering me, and so i had asked devin to help me do an ear candle to clear it out (see any youtube video to learn about ear candling :-)).

the next unfortunate event occurred as dev was trimming the ash from the candle end. he said it popped and flew out of the protective tray used to catch such things. it proceeded to land in my sweatshirt hood area and slide down my back, read ON MY SKIN UNDER MY SWEATSHIRT/tank top! as my back was burning, and dev was trying to put out the 5 small ash spots on the carpet, i was whining for him to take the dang burning candle and tray from me so i could get my shirts off and the ash out! (not too funny, though you may giggle here at the image). he took the candle, i wriggled out of my shirts, smushed the ash spots on the carpet with "bucky" and ran to ice my back. after icing, i cleaned the carpet, and cut off the melted waxy tips. i looks like new worries...
my back? 7 small burns on left scapula. ow. i failed to sleep once to the gracious assistant i have a work, i was able to have dev call her this morning and ask her to cover for me. thanks, diana! dev got me some nyquil around 630 am, and i slept till 130. showered and am now watching dr. phil. my body feels worked, but cuts are now scabbed and burns are less tender this morning. thank god for diana's!
and that is why i can take over michelley's blog this afternoon...think i'd rather be at work feeling great...

It aint all about the cabinets said...

For the record, the cereal box barricade is a real thing. Before Michelled just decided to abandon the table altogether, she would strategically place the cereal boxes so as to block her view of our bowls. If it was ever just the two of us - I had to be really quick to get a second bowl in - security wall breeches could not be tolerated.

Val said...

Ewww sharing cereal milk is pretty nasty. I'm right there with you on that one.

ruby may said...

I like the cereal with marshmallow things in it. But I'd rather have marshmallows

Verlana said...

I can't believe I'm actually sitting here on the verge of gagging! To think of sharing someone's spit/milk mixture to pour over your own cereal. (insert gag here) OMGoodness! Other than that, I absolutely LOVE fat cereal... Cracklin' Oat Bran, whole fat- no raisin oatmeal cereal, etc. SO good! And I, too, stand the entire morning in the "ready" position- also ready for directing kid's traffic and next moves! :)