So by now I’m sure everyone and their mom has heard that General Mills brought back the much-beloved French Toast Crunch about two years ago, and I’m happy about it for the most part. (Though honestly, the cereal tends to be a little bit pricey, so sadly I haven’t been eating it as much as I’d like to.) In the last year, the big GM released two new cereals in a brand new subline known as Tiny Toast, in what I assume is mostly an effort to justify keeping manufacturing French Toast Crunch, since the machine that produces tiny little toast-shaped cereals now has more than one specific purpose. Similar to French Toast Crunch, these are tiny little toast cereal pieces with sugar and fruit specks. So far they’ve got both strawberry and blueberry, and we managed to pick up a box relatively cheap recently at a local liquidation store.
In Meg and I’s ongoing quest to pretend we’re adults, we continue to fail in glorious, brilliant, new ways, ranging from tickle fights that lead to broken noses, to cookies ending up in someone’s underwear. This last week however we had another sterling display of why we’re both mentally 8 years old. While preparing for a party we were throwing, we ended up running late. In the process of buying some last minute groceries for said party, we walked into a store and told ourselves “Okay. We’re gonna be late for our own party. Let’s make this quick; we can’t get distracted.”
About two minutes in, we ended up sidetracked in the cereal aisle marveling at Batman VS Superman cereals, and then were stopped dead in our tracks mesmerized because there’s a new version of that dinosaur oatmeal, now featuring safari animals.
About 10 years ago, I found myself at a Christmas party at a local department/craft store with my mother, where they were serving this mystical drink known as “wassail”. It was some sort of mystery concoction made of apple cider, spices, and other fruits. Back then I was too young to drink hard cider, so plain old pure cider was my favorite thing to drink; I had pretty high expectations for this weird brew of fruit juices and spices I’d never heard of. To be frank, I got my shit rocked. Wassail was one of the greatest things I’d ever drunk and it had launched a sequence of events that guaranteed Christmas would never be the same after that.