by Teresa Johnson

Created on: February 24, 2009

THE CEREAL BOX

After my morning coffee, my stomach starts to growl. To the kitchen I go. I open the pantry door. I see a half eaten loaf of bread. A box of Oreos, (hmmmmm tempting). Two boxes of cereal. I need to start eating healthy. I select the healthy cereal. I have a bowl and a spoon. Now I need the milk. As I laid everything out on the kitchen table, I noticed that the cereal box had never been open. "New Box! Coooooool"!

Struggling to open the top of the box, I broke two fingernails. The stupid tab on the top of the box is ALWAYS glued down too tight. Now I pulled too hard. I tore the top part of the tab, at the top of the box in half. Why do cereal Companies make the cereal boxes so hard to get into. It is just Cereal for Gods sake!

Now I have to deal with the plastic wrapping that the cereal comes in. Tugging and pulling at the plastic harder and harder. Finally. It ripped open with half of the cereal flying all over the table and floor. I pulled so hard my hand hit the side of the wall. Cuss words start coming out of my mouth. Now I have a mess I half to clean up.

Now I have to worry about poring my milk onto the cereal. You know how sometimes, there is that one little flake of cereal, that sits on top. When the milk hits it just right, milk splatters all over the place. Stupied cereal flake! Now I have ANOTHER mess I have to clean up. More cuss words come out of my mouth. I did not think, by having one bowl of cereal, I would be mopping the floor, cleaning the ki6tchen table, and going to the hospital for a broken hand.

Finally. I can sit down and quietly enjoy my breakfast. I dip my spoon into the bowl. As that wonderful spoon of flakes are about to hit the inside of my mouth; the phone rings. cuss words, and more cuss words keep coming out of mouth. As I rush to the phone, I stub my tow on the leg of the kitchen table. Hopping around on one leg, with my hand grasping my throbbing toe, more cuss words proceed to come out of mouth. I lose my balance. As I fall down to the floor, I hit my head on the corner of the table. The phone is still ringing. "Shut up"! I yell. I get up. I hop over to the phone. I pick it up. "Hello"! "Hello"! Is anyone there?" Cuss words. Cuss Words.

Limping back to the table, I sit down. I scoop up a spoonful of flakes. I look at the spoon. I watch the milk sripping off of those bueatiful flakes that are going to hit my mouth. I put the spoon into my mouth. I spit the milk all across the room. Milk goes everywhere. "The milk is sour!" I yell. Now I really cussing. Now I have ANOTHER MESS TO CLEAN UP. All I wanted was a bowl of cereal.

Have you ever the expression: "Don't cry over spilled Milk" Well..................I just did. I cry> I spilled milk. All because of THE CEREAL BOX

Learn more about this author, Teresa Johnson.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.