"My Trix came up in a rainbow in the shower," my roommate said when we started talking about fruity cereals this morning. Apple Jacks don't taste like apples, but cinnamon. Fruit Loops taste the same, but French Toast Crunch tastes like the 90s. "You asked, it's back!" she reads off the box when we stop at Kroger, plucking the last box off the shelf in a fit of excitement. She didn't buy milk. She's prepared for snow week, so it won't happen. I wish for a minute I had bought Reese's Puffs.
In the kitchen later, she smells her milk, dumps it down the drain, and says, "I'm glad I smelled it before I poured the cereal."
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