Eleven Bowls of Lucky Charms

I love Lucky Charms. I have loved them since I was two and my mom stopped feeding them to me for brekky because I would eat all the marshmallow bits and leave the rest to get soggy in my bowl of milk. I don't love the new leprechaun or the fact that I have to eat them with rice milk instead of moo milk, but I am really enjoying all of the great new sweets they've added. I don't know why they don't just make it all marshmallows. Who cares about the oats? It's just filler.

I recently (ok, two seconds ago) read that the marshmallows are called marbits, and they are really Kraft circus peanuts. Perfect! My friend Laura says that I'm the only person she knows who still enjoys a circus peanut.

Lucky Charms have gotten me through some pretty tough times. When everything is coming apart at the seams I just gobble down one cheery bowlful after another.

You're probably wondering why I have posted a picture of an astronaut when I'm rattling on about cereal. This is why: Today I said goodbye to my therapist. I have been visiting her sunny little office off and on since Sweet Potato was a fingerling. We got reacquainted after my dad died, so I've seen her for an hour every week for almost a year. Today she gave me a fabulous pep talk and told me that everything is going to be just fine-- right after I move, go into shock and get all numb and depressed for a while.

R and Buckaroo picked me up from my appointment, and I was blubbering all over the place, and I said I feel like an astronaut floating in space, and I have just broken my tether with the shuttle.

Then we went to the store, and I bought myself a super-sized box of the cereal. It's magically lullicious.

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