Cuckoo for...what?

Post interrupted. Before it began. I have no proof. You may choose to believe me. Or not. As with most things, it is of no consequence. I have been neglecting nostalgic waxing about cereal. And the golden sunny Saturday mornings of my childhood. I bought two boxes of cereal at the dollar store. A buck apiece. Knock-off brands of what I believe, what I hope will be, Cocoa Puffs. Oh to be cuckoo for these, as I am of those! Kroger and Food Lion. Both brands named Cocoa Crunchies. One is "sweetened corn cereal made with real cocoa." The other "frosted corn cereal made with real cocoa." Both promise to be a good source of calcium. I assume from the milk one pours over them. Serving suggestions enlarged to show detail. They have no idea. Without having opened either, I think I prefer the Food Lion brand at this point of the study. The box features a monkey. Ape? Whatever. A primate.

But...... Before I could fully form in my mind what would have been, could have been, should have been, is, a tiresome attempt at a cutesy cereal post, there was a frantic knock at the door. Really. Frantic. At least a dozen knocks before I could make it the ten feet to the door. One should never open the door simply because the knocks are frantic. The same should hold true for door bells as well. I wouldn't know for sure about door bells. Just a guess. Peeking through the peep hole, I saw Brian. I knew what that meant. Gutting, fileting, slicing, dredging in sugar and salt, and then cleaning up the inevitable mess. And then incorporating it into the intended post. There is no 'after' picture Dear Reader. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.