Oatmeal: A Cautionary Tale

I always do this. I give oatmeal a second chance thinking that this time he'll be good to me.  I always say I won't do it.  And always, all buddy Quaker needs do is show his face in my pantry, and I come crawling back.  I'm warped and this certainly has the makings of an unhealthy relationship.

"This time will be different", I assure myself when I spy his cheeky grin.  And it seems that, finally, I am right.

I mean the smell wafting from the bowl as it steeps (...is steep the right word here?) is downright heavenly.  It smells like a freaking cinnamon roll up in here. And look at that nice palatable brown color!  Just add some brown sugar and almonds and we're in business. At this point I'm salivating, and simultaneously congratulating myself on choosing oatmeal to sate my hunger.  The waiting's done. My lips break into a smile and I take that first bite....

And right on cue: Warning. WARNING. Initiate gag reflex.

I never knew what it was that bothered me so much about oatmeal until today, when I finally figured it out. < enter epiphany >  Oatmeal tastes like food that's already been chewed.  Really though.  Chew up an oatmeal cookie, spit it out, serve it in a dish, and I bet you could pass it off as a fresh bowl.   I suppose, were I a baby bird, this might be all right.  I remember reading somewhere that momma birds regurgitate food before feeding it to their chicks.  And I know some humans do this too.  But I feel these are the same sort of humans who breast feed their children till they're speaking in full sentences. Which sort of human, I am not.  

Sorry oatmeal. You were nice while it lasted, but we are never, ever, ever getting back together.


xoxo!