The bowl stands firmly upon the counter as it awaits to be rained upon with dozens of glorious flakes. Little red berries add some color to the grainy pile. Suddenly, a splash of milk and my cereal is now ready to be eaten. There’s only one thing missing: the perfect spoon.
Yes, the perfect spoon. The spoon that fits so well in your hand that it’s like a second hand coming out of your first hand – its movements naturally flowing from your body as if your brain thought it was there all along. The spoon that picks up just the right amount of cereal combined with just the right amount of milk combined with just the right amount of red berries so that your first bite will be the perfect culmination of flavor and crunchiness. Never will there be too much food in one bite nor will there be any awkward drippings of milk down your chin. The perfect spoon that isn’t so big that when you try to take a bite it can barely enter your mouth. Nor is it too small so that you hardly get any food. This spoon gives you exactly the right amount each time. It’s almost as if when the spoon gods were designing this spoon, they were using your tongue as the model.
The search begins in the most logical location, of course. The drawer opens slowly, and you have to shade your eyes from the reflection of the sun in all of the shiny silverware. Clearly, this is the treasure trove of all eating utensils and you were the first pirate to see that X really did mark the spot. Soon, your hand is in amongst the silver and you are examining each piece that you find. At first, the touch is cold, but you quickly warm up as the sound of metal clacks against each other while you dig in anticipation. It has to be in there somewhere! Where could it be!?
You pull out the first of your spoils blindly. The cereal in front of you is starting to have an effect on you. The redness of the berries are taunting you.
“We taste sooooo delicious! Hurry! Find your spoon! We are eager to meet your stomach!”
You snarl at the berries. They will meet their end soon. In haste, you take your new spoil and plunge straight into the heart of your breakfast.
“Victory has never tasted so good!” you think as you raise the utensil toward your mouth. You shut your eyes as it inches closer and closer. You can feel it on your lips. Your mouth opens and…
You open your eyes in surprise. What happened? There was nothing there. You quickly pull out your utensil. It was a fork! FOOL! In a rage, you toss the fork aside. It clatters as it hits the edge of the sink. Your hand plummets back into the drawer.
“I will not fail this time! You are down there somewhere. I know it!”
You make sure to take extra caution during this search… but then the corn flakes begin to tease you.
“What’s taking you so long? We’re getting soggy! Don’t you want to eat us? There’s still some crunch left, but you better hurry!”
As hungry as you are, you do not let their words spoil your concentration. Your fingers suddenly are around the soft, round edge of a utensil. Your eyes glance down quickly to confirm. It’s hard to make out in the mess of metal in your drawer, but there’s no denying it. A spoon! You pull it out and before your flakes can become any soggier, you plunge again into the heart of your cereal.
“At last!” you think while bringing the spoon up to your mouth. You shut your eyes again to truly enjoy that first crunch. Slowly, the spoon makes its way inside your mouth. You bite down, ready to savor the perfect balance of flakes, berries and milk. Then…
“Ergggggh!!!’ you scream while spitting out your mouthful. “This is not the perfect balance of flakes, berries, and milk! What happened!?”
Your eyes immediately dart to the spoon for examination.
“A……SPORK!? DAMMIT!” you shout again while flinging the spork to the side. The roundness of its edges had tricked you! Though, you did get some cereal in
your mouth before spitting it out, the milk had fallen through the cracks leaving you with much more to be desired.
The cereal continues to taunt you.
“You could have made an entire omelette by now, you know! We would have been tastier. We still are, but you’re running out of time! Don’t you know what a spoon looks like?”
You fly into a frenzy. Never have you been so hungry and so angry at the same time. You pull the entire drawer out and throw it onto the counter. You perch your body over the drawer like a hawk searching for its prey far below him. You won’t let a thing out of your site until you find your perfect spoon.
“Nothing will escape me this time!”
It begins. As if a gun went off, the race has started. Your hands begin searching, piece by piece, for your spoon. Knife, fork, fork, knife, knife, not sure what this thing is, fork, fork, fork, pizza cutter, burger flipper, knife, fork, spork, fork. You become more enraged! It has to be down there somewhere! Utensils are flying everywhere. There’s clinging and clattering all over the kitchen as the silverware hits the floor. Fork, fork, knife, knife, another random thing, knife, fork. You can now see the bottom of the drawer. You flip the entire thing over and utensil splatter all over the floor. It’s not there! There are NO spoons! You are on the verge of tears. The cereal speaks to you again.
“No spoons, eh? What a shame! We very well might have been the best tasting cereal you have ever had. Funny you never even thought to check the dishwasher…”
The dishwasher! Of course! You had just run it last night so everything must be clean! Your heart is racing as your run toward the dishwasher door. It feels like you haven’t eaten for days. It feels like you’ve been in the desert for years chasing an oasis that never truly existed…until now. Your hand reaches for the door and pulls it open.
A choir sings from above! Shiny, clean silverware! You have to shade yourself again from the reflection of the shine, though you can hardly see it anyway with the tears in your eyes. Every spoon you have ever owned is in the utensil tray. You could pick out your favorite one without even having to think twice. Your spoon! The one with the funny looking flowers engraved the handle that your mom gave to you when you left for college. You had so many good times with that spoon. Easy mac, ramen, tons more cereal. The best of the bowled foods.
The angelic song grows into a climactic roar as you pick up your spoon. Soon, your hunger would be quenched. Soon, you can finally begin your day. Soon. You turn to face your cereal. It seems unable to speak. That’s right. You scared the cereal after all its taunting of you. It fears for its life now!
With your spoon in one hand and your bowl in the other, you prepare for your first bite. This bite will be the bite to end all bites. Never will you have tasted anything so great in your entire life. This will be it – the perfect grouping of flakes, berries, and milk. Your heart starts beating faster.
As before, your hand plunges into the heart of the cereal. You can feel the spoon as an extension of your own hand. The weight of the cereal is there as you turn to bring it back up to your mouth. You can see the new art you have created using the tan, red, and white. Truly a masterpiece! You raise your spoon just a bit further and open your mouth… ever… so… slowly…. then…
This isn’t right. You mash the food together hoping for some sort of salvation.
Glursh, glursh, glursh.
Where’s the crunchiness? What is going on?? The cereal pipes up again from inside your mouth.
“You’re actually still trying to eat us! We’ve been soggy for like 4 minutes! You’re better off eating a pair of your own socks!”
It was true. You spent so long looking for your perfect spoon that the cereal had now turned into a bowl of mush. You didn’t notice it at the time because you were so caught up in emotion, but it’s very clear now.
You retort, “That doesn’t matter! I have my spoon now! I’ll simply pour a new bowl of cereal! You can’t stop me!!”
The cereal spits back, “You silly boy. We were all that’s left. Hope you like socks!”
Your mind is swimming. No. There must be more cereal. You manage to swallow your disgusting, mushy bite and run straight for the cupboard. The cereal box is still there. They were lying! You grab it and bring it back to a new bowl, though the box feels oddly light. Your spoon is placed quietly to the side as your begin to pour and…
Nothing. Nothing comes out. You reach inside to grab the bag and sure enough, that pile of mush in front of you is the last of your cereal.
“Noooooooooooooo!” you sob. You sit on the floor with your back to the cupboard and your face in your hands. Your day is ruined. There’s nothing to do now but hope that you have a pair of good tasting socks. At least, you have your perfect spoon.
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