So, I have this tradition. Every March 6th, without fail, just before my temple greets its parish of pillows, I will jolt awake with childlike wonder and adultlike anxiety, having suddenly remembered that National Cereal Day is on March 7th, and I’ve totally forgotten to draft up meaningful content.
Cut to me, scraggled by crummy overhead lighting and disheveled as the pantry shelves I’m whipping through like a lethargic whirlwind. I mean, can you blame me? Sure, I’ve got cereal on my mind a lot, but National Cereal Day has long been an annual anomaly that exists without discernible reason nor rhyme, just an arbitrarily selected and sweetened day from the never-ending passage of time.
I’m sure that’s just my brain complaining though, as it desperately wishes to get back to its dreams of supermodels eating soups or salads or whatever else my nefarious noggin gets into when I’m severed from it by sleep. After all, what better way to celebrate everyone’s favorite morning munchie than by groggily griddling up the stuff by the battered scoopful at 2am?
Though it may not be a proper cereal, Cap’n Crunch and Aunt Jemima’s historic new partnership is practically begging for National Cereal Day’s spotlight. Why? Well, not because it’s good, but because it’s so stupid, it’s great.
