I used to have a bowl of oatmeal every morning. It just lays there, mushy and defenseless. I got bored with the predictability. Next time I was in the cereal aisle I took my time, examining one colorful box after another, each promising good health and nutrition. I was getting dizzy, comparing and contrasting.
At the very end of the aisle were three bright blue boxes that had a photo of a cherubic woman in her forties with a warm smile. Underneath it were two words: "Ulrika's Goodies". I assumed it was cereal because it was in the cereal aisle. In small letters on the side it said: "Made in Rumania". As soon as I got home I opened the box and filled my bowl.
It was burgundy in color, with rough texture. When I poured a sprig of milk onto it, I heard a violent crackling and a sucking noise. I backed away from the table, unable to breathe. Somehow, I got to the window and threw it open, taking deep breaths. My new cereal was sucking the oxygen right out of the room. Once my heart stopped pounding, I decided to follow through with my adventure and finish the bowl. I had trouble chewing and swallowing the kernels, but it tasted very sweet.
I patted myself on the back for my courage. An hour later my stomach was doing flips, my gums were bleeding, and my lips frozen. I grabbed the box to toss it out and it was then that I noticed that smiling woman on the outside now had her head thrown back and was guffawing madly.
The joke was on me.
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