Story of My Dinner: Episode 2

Today I had knock-off Cinnamon Toast Crunch for dinner.  Not as good as actual Cinnamon Toast Crunch, but still a treat.  

Yes, this is a typical dinner choice for me.  I may love to cook, but I also love to be lazy.  And I LOVE cereal.  Cereal provides me with about 40% of my annual sustenance, I’d say.  I’m not exaggerating.

This story is way less melodramatic than yesterday’s, and I think it’s actually pretty funny (but that may just be me).  Let me know what you think.

 PsychoCinna

Brannie and her husband, Toat, sat in the wading bowl on a hot summer’s day.  The pool was bustling with people, mostly children, who jostled into each other.  One young tike swam past and kicked Toat in the corner.

“Ow!” Toat groaned, wincing.  “That kid nearly popped my air pocket!”

“This is ridiculous,” Brannie complained in her high-and-mighty voice.  “We’re never coming to this bowl again.”

“Seriously!” said Toat.  “I have never seen this place so crowded.”

“And filled with floozies.  Did you see how thin that woman’s cinna-stripe was?  My mother never would have let me out of the house dressed like that.”

“Certainly not,” Toat agreed.

They fell into silence for a moment, Brannie glaring at those around her.

“What’s the point of coming to a pool if you can’t even touch the milk?” said Brannie.  “It’s so hot, Toat.  I can feel the sugar dust on my skin.”

Toat nodded. “I’ve got my bottom corner in, at least.”

Brannie peered over at Toat with a calculating eye. “Is the milk clearer over there?  Maybe I should scoot over.”

“I’m not sure that’s the best idea, sweetie,” Toat said uncertainly, peering around him.  “It’s pretty crowded.”

“Nonsense,” said Brannie.  She wriggled her way over to Toat, and ended up sliding on top of a toastman in leopard cinnaprint.  

“Hebbbeybbbbb,” the toastman said, his mouth partway in the water, where he was pinned by Brannie’s large squarish figure.

“Oh, hush,” Brannie told him.  She then sighed in contentment as she dipped two of her corners into the milk.  “This is almost worth it.

“Brannie, um, I think that toastman is drowning,” Toat said hesitantly. 

“He’ll be fine,” Brannie said without concern.

After a moment the toastman stopped struggling in the milk.  Toat looked at him nervously, waiting to see signs of life.  The toastman didn’t move.

Then there was the shrill tweet of a whistle and the silver lifespoon dove from her perch at the guardtower and in a quick dip scooped the toastman out of the milk and to safety.  The formerly drowning toastman began to stir as the lifespoon set him on the rim of the bowl.

“There, see?” Brannie said with a smile as she settled down into the milk that the toastman had previously occupied.  “Everyone got what they wanted.  I got the milk, the lifespoon got to go for a dip, and the toastman didn’t drown.  This day is going better than I’d thought.”

Okay, so this story also reveals that I’m a bit disturbed.  But hey, at least it’s not melodramatic, right? And I don't really need to post the recipe for this, do I?

Tune in tomorrow for Episode 3.  Maybe I’ll get better at this as the week progresses. Thanks for reading!