Putting Away Childish Things

Yesterday at work, the break room was getting to be pretty barren (deliveries are on Mondays) so, I grabbed more or less the only thing left: one of those little mini-boxes of cereal, a variety called Trix.

I remember liking Trix when I was, oh, maybe 8 or 9 years old; now, at 46, it was just...yeesh, it was like eating a bowl of candy. Candy that contains no real, actual food, but is instead refined out of petroleum or something. The milk turned an interesting shade of radioactive-looking pink. Hideous stuff.