Cereal

A deranged-looking Captain Horatio Crunch aboard the SS Guppy

It takes a long time to break a bad habit. I've read it's seven weeks, but sometimes the struggle is much
longer, or feels it.

One of my successes is breaking my love of breakfast cereal. More precisely, sugary cereals.

When I was very young, my parents taught me how to pour a bowl of cereal and milk so I wouldn't have to wake them in the morning. And, every day until I was 36, I ate a bowl (sometimes two) of cereal. Froot Loops, Apple Jacks, Fruity Pebbles, Cap'n Crunch, Lucky Charms, and the cult classic monster cereals and Quisp. The observant among you noticed I didn't call out any chocolate cereals... though I'd buy and eat them, to me they were only a step ahead of Special K or Raisin Bran.

I bought up vintage cereal boxes on eBay (sometimes with the vintage cereal still unopened) and learned as much as I could about the characters, prizes, marketing, and history of the chemical recipes. I became incensed when a company changed its formula or production method (that's for you, General Mills, for your yo-yo strategy behind Trix!)

Breaking this habit, obsession, and way of life was not easy. But I was able to create a ritual of making breakfast. Slow cook oats, yogurt, an egg or two, and when I lived in my little house, I'd pick fresh strawberries, blackberries, blueberries, and apples from my yard when they were in season. And for someone who's a notoriously simple cook, I can manage a near full-English by myself for a few guests.

These days, I only buy cereal under three circumstances: if I am extraordinarily busy (think end of term when everything is due at once and you can really use that 20 minutes of prep time on some other task), as a very special treat, or when traveling and experiencing foreign sugary cereals.