I grew up eating cereal for breakfast most of the time. Of course, not the sugary ones, except as a treat. Same with my children—Cheerios cereal was a staple for our family. Our kids got their own breakfast as soon as they were strong and adept enough to pour in the milk without spilling it everywhere.
Wikipedia says that the number of different breakfast cereals grew from about 160 in 1970 to over 5,000 types in 2012. 5,000 sounds high—but it feels about right. When I was pregnant with my first child, my husband and I went grocery shopping and split the list between us for efficiency. After he’d found his items, he found me stuck in the cereal aisle, unable to decide which box to put in my cart. “The cereal aisle” became my shorthand for a decision with too many options.
When I had a new house built, the designer presented me with three options for things like cabinets, flooring, lighting, etc. Three. I wish all decisions were like that—a set of three options curated by a staff of experts: three lawnmowers, three brownie mixes, three majors to study in college. Three men to choose from. Three ways to resolve a conflict with my roofer. Three kinds of cereal.
Today I had no time for breakfast because I had to rush off to a dentist appointment. I choked down three bites of a protein bar that took forever to chew. It was terrible.
