Frankenberry, Boo Berry, and Count Chocula,

As a child, you three dazzled me away from the naughty Honey Nut Cheerios Bee.  You did not need Lucky Charms to hold breakfast bowl dominion.  Tony Tiger secretly thought of you when he screamed “They’re Great.”

Oh – what a seasonal specialty – sweet strawberry goodness, beguiling blueberry, charming chocolate – graced my fall mornings as a child.  I would so willing leave with you – any of you – on the cooookie crisp train – if you desired.  But, that was not to be.

It’s not your fault our relationship became sour milk thick.  I grew and, before I knew it, your sweetness delight was replaced with the not-so-special Special K.  The prospect of consuming a morning bowl of Grape Nuts, which I suspect are not really made from grapes or nuts, was enough to scare hunger away.  The brag about Fiber One was more scary than any of you could concoct.   If fiber is one, do we dare speculate number two?

More seasons came – and I became consumed by anorexia.  Those who lived with me rediscovered the delight of Count Chocula flavored milk, Frankenberry puffs, and Boo Berry marshmallow ghosts that kept even the thieving Trix rabbit at bay.  But – still – the delightful seasonal sugary sweetness would not be for me.  Breakfast became a nearly forgotten memory.

I denied – and I’m sorry – the tender cold milk mornings, the sugar candy-coated conversations – but now… now…  I have reawakened.

This year, Frankenberry – I voted for you!  Count Chocula – you will always have a dear place in my heart.  Boo —  Unfortunately, I couldn’t find you, but since you’re the ghost with the most, that’s hardly surprising.

I was – just – becoming reacquainted.  I have lost so much and need to reclaim so many seasons, but my cereal trio has vanished again, leaving only a chocolate marshmallow bat under the breakfast table as a soft reminder of what was – and what will be again.

So, until next year, charming Count, favored Frankenberry, and bewitching Boo – a thousand times adieu.  And I will be waiting with a shiny silver spoon next year.