I don’t even like Cinnamon Toast Crunch. This may come as a surprise to my husband who found me standing naked in the kitchen eating a bowl of it one morning last week.

That day, I was climbing into the shower, one leg over the side of the tub, when my youngest daughter burst into the bathroom and announced that she needed Cinnamon Toast Crunch. We have learned in the past few weeks that if she eats breakfast first, she tends to be more cooperative during the rest of our morning routine. So to keep things moving as smoothly as possible I quickly scampered (my apologies to your mind’s eye) to the kitchen and poured her a bowl of cereal. “But I wanted Cinnamon Toast Crunch WITHOUT milk!” was the plaintive reply when I put it on the table in front of her. No problem. I poured some dry cereal in a baggie and handed it to her. “Mommy, I’m going to get dressed now and eat breakfast on the way to daycare,” and off she headed to her room. As I muttered under my breath, my oldest daughter padded into the kitchen all groggy-eyed and I offered the bowl to her. She checked the school menu ,“No thanks, I’m going to eat breakfast at school today, they’re having French toast sticks,” and she headed down the hall too. Of course they were having French toast sticks. Wondering what in the hell I was going to do with this twice rejected bowl of cereal, I realized I was out of the breakfast bars I usually eat and decided I could kill two birds with one stone if I just ate it myself. Which is exactly what I was doing when my husband came up the stairs and found me, still stark raving naked, a few moments later. “Are we hungry then?” he asked with one eyebrow raised. It was probably a good thing my mouth was full of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, WITH milk.