I have these miracle Cheerios at the office.
…If I were to guess on the conservative side for their date of purchase, I would place it sometime last year. For certain, no earlier than Christmas. I know this, as it was part two of a Costco box, and that was the last time I frequented said bulk-everything establishment.
Now, I dunno how or why…but when I was forced to dip into the bag again today (as a default lunch), the fuckers still crunch as loud as ever they did, and are minus any kind of stale or strange other funk one would for sure expect by this time in it’s expiration date. Maybe the plastic around said Cheerios is made of the same special preservatives as English skin….like whatever they dipped Helen Mirren in. Or Sophia Loren’s boobs. Or peanut butter. I dunno.
…I also dunno why God, (who sorta has a lot of things going on at the moment) would take time out of his busy day to miracle-dose, said bag of Cheerios, specifically…but he clearly has, and did. At this point, they are just shy of the death-without-deterioration laws that the Catholics set aside as Incorruptible.
…They could practically be canonized. Right now.
These Cheerios are special.
…They have been set aside as a kind of on-going residual food-source, whenever I am in need of one, and even when handfuls are subtracted, seem to hold the same bag-filling volume, ongoing to infinity.
At this point: they are a supernatural wonder. For which I am thankful.
…May they so continue in their ongoing quest of emergency nourishment.
Forever and ever…
…(or at least ’til I remember to buy a new one.)
Amen.
~D
