You can tell a lot about someone by his or her choice of breakfast cereal. I've been thinking about cereal because upon opening an upper kitchen cupboard, I was struck by a veritable avalanche of cereal boxes.
While tunneling my way clear, I couldn't help but notice that each member of our family has different and distinct tastes in breakfast cereal. I further realized that our preferences mirrored our personalities.
Take my daughter, Val, for example. She's a combination of down-to-earth tomboy and girly-girl. Val can throw on a pair of faded jeans and get down in the trenches painting, hauling trash and even laying bricks (at a former church building project) with the best of them. On the other hand, there's not much she enjoys more than spending hours at the mall picking out frilly clothes and selecting designer perfume.
Val's cereal choice is also something of a dichotomy. She leans toward healthy, down-to-earth bran, oat and barley flakes, as long as there's a dose of yogurt, almonds, dried peaches, strawberries or chocolate chips (preferably all in the same bowl) thrown in for good measure.
My husband, Bob, has a serious side, but there's also an almost child-like quality about him that belies his 52 years. In keeping with my cereal/personality theory, it's not surprising that Bob's taste runs to the cartoonish. At any given time, his cereal collection includes Frankenberry, Count Chocula, Fruity Pebbles and Cocoa Pebbles. (Then again, he might have an unnatural fondness for the Flintstones.) To be fair, Bob also eats Raisin Bran and Shredded Wheat, but I think that has more to do with being regular (something that bears consideration past age 50).
My own taste in cereal reflects a well-grounded person who is willing to take an occasional walk on the luxurious side.
Because of this, my personal preference is a bowl of Grape Nuts; you know, the stuff that fellow who ate trees used to advertise. (Is he still alive, or did he get hold of a bad pine cone?)
You're probably thinking "OK, I get the no-nonsense part, but where does the "luxury" part come in? Let me explain. I use half and half and throw in about a cup of sugar. (Actually, by the time I'm through it should probably be called "Grape Syrup.")
No doubt about it, we Smiths are a wild and crazy bunch. If we all liked the same cereal, my kitchen cupboards wouldn't be a safety hazard, but it would also be pretty boring.
God created each of us with special and unique personalities. I don't know about you, but I kind of like it that way.