I like me some cereal. I’m not about to grab a giant mixing bowl and dump in an entire box. That’s not smart. By the time you get to the dregs at the bottom of the bowl, it’ll be filled with cereal mush that nobody really likes. I prefer to fill a reasonably-sized bowl and repeat as often as needed (usually twice depending on how hungry I am)

It’s not the sugary goodness that is cereal that concerns me. Oh no. Not at all. I can consume cereal with the best of them. It’s also not the amount of sugary milk I’ll drink at the end of every bowl. At least it’s not filled with my favorite daughter’s weeds and grass.

What troubles me about cereal is the box. Sure, once upon a time I used to literally tear open a box in hopes of finding the price inside first. Those days it didn’t matter if the box was destroyed in the process as a box of cereal around the house when I was a kid had a shelf life of about two days before it completely disappeared.

Now that I’m older, I like things to be in order. Honest. Don’t judge me by my site! Knowing that I like things in order, cereal manufacturers all collectively assembled and decided they needed to screw with me now that I’m grown up. I know they met and said “Hey, that Murdock kid still likes cereal, let’s screw with him!” And they have. They went to great lengths to ensure my life is miserable and it’s all because of their cursed boxes!

When you look at a box of cereal on the shelf, it looks nice and innocent enough. It will usually have a cartoonish character on it smiling at you, but that’s just to hide the evil waiting for you when you finally get that box home. It’s there to seduce you into buying something that will make you cereal enjoyment difficult and painful!

You start by trying to open the cardboard top. Yes, it’s got a nice tab on it that’s designed to fit into the slot so it’ll close. There are two issues here. First is the super glue they use to make sure the two pieces of cardboard don’t come apart cleanly. On the best of days you’ll end up with a long tear or the colored wrapper. On the bad days you’ll tear the box halfway down the side before you’re able to have enough room to expose the plastic liner containing the cereal. Then if you try to separate the perforated section to put the tab in, this will usually be flimsy enough to tear and you’ll have to leave the box open for the rest of its life.

Now let’s talk about that plastic liner, shall we? This stuff could be put into space and the cereal would be unaffected. Well, it’s cereal. It’s not like it breaths. But the seal on the bag is strong enough to make grown men cry. Not that I know from experience! DON’T JUDGE ME! Again, at the best of times you’ll pull and strain to get the bag to open. The goal is to open the bag and pour our the cereal. This should not be a Herculean effort! Pulling and pulling and seeing the opening grow millimeter by millimeter is frustrating. If you go any faster, you’ll tear the bag to shreds and have a counter (and floor, and small pets) covered in cereal!

Oh! Don’t even think about bringing a sharp object near these things. Hell no! They are puncture proof. You try to cut or stab the bag and you’re in for some serious trouble. The bag will fight back! It will self heal like a bag made from troll skin! If you’re not careful, it’ll disarm you and try to cut you, man. There’s danger inside that smiling-faced box!

And another thing; more often than not, GLUED TO THE INSIDE OF THE BOX! What? Is someone going to steal the bag of cereal and leave the box on the shelf? What if I want to pull the bag out and put it in a head lock so I can get better leverage to open the box? Does getting my morning cereal really need to be so difficult?

Okay. I’m going to see if I can brush enough cereal out of the dogs hair to fill a bowl. She looks funny trying to eat it out of her fur.

Don’t even get me started on those tiny, single-serving boxes. Those were made by the devil himself! Who are those single servings for? Munchkins?

Until Next Time!

WOO WOO!