Every morning, at about 8:20, I scream, “We’re late! We’re late! Get your shoes on!”
Every morning, we all rush out the door.
Every morning, those damn cereal bowls greet me back home.
Boy, do I loathe those cereal bowls. Half filled. Mushy, 70-percent eaten product. Warm milk, just floating there. I mean, I just wanna jump in the shower and go about my day. But I can’t, because the damned bowls must be taken care of first. Which isn’t as easy as it sounds. Pour them in the sink, an inevitable clogging of Honey Nut and Kix takes place. Dump the whole thing in the garbage, then forget to take out the garbage, and the house inevitably smells of rotted milk. Hell, the bowls themselves are pains. They’re my kids’ favorites, but those plastic straws have to be cleaned, or else there’ll be inevitable mold.
By the time the whole process is completed, it’s been, oh, 15 minutes.
I hate those bowls.
PS: And don’t get me started on the price of cereal, the massive amounts of sugar in cereal and the decreasing size of the boxes. Ugh.