Ballpit + urine = new Trix
Once, our breakfast was stylish. Once, we were not appeased by vapid color displays. There was a time when fruit was for breakfast and grain was for sandwiches. In January of 2007, this all was changed. The executive order was handed down to return Trix to their original, communal, spherical shapes.
What did that mean for kids? Nothing, except the textural death of the former world's greatest cereal (title currently being disputed by Cocoa Pebbles). Now in puff-form, the taste has been diluted from sugary perfection to wholesome blandness. They don't taste anymore. It's like eating colorful sawdust. But with nutrients. I try to avoid both; look at my diet for proof.
Cart24 from friendcodes.com said that he likes "the old Trix because they were fruits, not circles." I couldn't agree more. Circles have no edge to them. Other circles: peas, sour grapes, bad donuts, meatballs with gristle in them, tires, bullet wounds.
In addition, the company is gipping us on quantity. The "puff" is, by nature, riddled with air pockets and empty spaces. This means pockets of bacteria waiting to attack and destroy our immune systems, punishing us for our weak breakfast purchases. There is no bang for our buck.
Trix cereal is now baby-friendly, able to be broken down with the slightest contact. It once took talent, strength, and raw endurance to chew through the dense pieces of sugarbreadfruit, especially when you ate through the tall sides of the ones that were shaped like bananas because bananas are long. Hunter-gatherers were among the hardest working humans in history for their food. They had to hunt for their food and often eat it uncooked. There was no certainty of dinner for one night, or even the next. We, too,have their blood running through our veins. We, too, have an instinct to fight for our satisfaction, and when the battle is already won, when the enemy crumbles before our teeth, we are left unsatisfied.
For three years our beloved cereal has marched from the factories in round, uniform, oppression. They seek a return to the glory days. A release from the boring days. I, for one, refuse to consume them until they are liberated to their bright, happy, shapely selves. Please do the same.
The day that the puff reigned again was the day my childhood ended. This is when I realized I was doomed to end up in a cubicle one day. This is when I gave up, and considered maybe trying oatmeal one day.