Milk and Cereal, Cereal and Milk

In the past three days I have had two significant experiences surrounding milk and cereal; read on for more details:

1. Friday I timed my morning rituals so precisely that I would have exactly 7 minutes to enjoy a big, delicious bowl of Special K cereal with ice cold, skim milk. Throughout the morning I was tempted numerous times to quit and go back to bed; it was the thought that soon I would be devouring such a bowl of cereal that kept me going. Finally, after my hair was in place and my earrings were in, I bounded down the stairs to delight in my breakfast, gathered a bowl and spoon, poured Special K to the brim of the bowl and anxiously opened the refrigerator door to retrieve the milk that would so perfectly complete this meal. And what did I see? Nothing. Zilch. Zero. The milk was gonzo. Oh! My heart began to ache. I had gotten my hopes up so high; I had planned on this simple bowl of cereal getting me through the 8 long hours of paperwork that awaited me; I didn't have a back up plan. I was let down. And let down hard. I stood staring in disbelief at the empty shelf in the fridge that had once held the key to my heart. After finally facing the harsh reality that no matter how long and hard I glared at that shelf, milk wasn't going to magically appear, I slowly and sadly shut the door, shut the door on my hopes and dreams and moved on to face a life without milk. I attempted to enjoy the Special K flakes dry, but failed miserably in my attempts. Reluctantly, I put the uneaten flakes back in the box and was forced to settle on a lousy granola bar for breakfast. It was such a disappointing and traumatizing start to my Friday. I don't think there is a worse feeling in the world than opening the fridge, only to reveal an absence of milk. I would never wish that upon anyone. If this unpleasant experience ever happens to you, come talk to me, we can wallow in self-pity together.

2. On a much happier note: Just one blissful hour ago I came home from church and rushed to the kitchen for my after-church snack. Luckily, the parentals went to Albertsons yesterday and picked up three gallons of milk! Huzzah. Knowing this, I once again gathered a bowl and spoon, pulled out the Cap'n Crunch and began to fill the bowl. The cardboard box was light; I was afraid to get my hopes up in the slight chance I would be disappointed; I hoped anyways, I couldn't resist. I nervously glanced down at the now-full bowl to see what awaited me, and lo and behold: Cap'n Crunch did not disappoint. The perfect amount of orange cereal was topped with an even more perfect amount of cereal dust! Oh, happy day! It was a little Sunday afternoon miracle. I had received the most prized possession of a cardboard cereal box: the sugar-dust. Life is good. And life is even better when you get the dust in the cereal box. I almost did a jig I was so happy.

**My adorable little brother, Ethan, begged me to blog about LeBron James' buzzer beater shot. Here you go, kid, my tribute to you and this LeBron James character. Enjoy.