One Million Cheerios

Tags

cheerios, day dreaming, Humor, neil patrick harris, parenting

January 6, 2017

For the most part, Charles and Arthur have drained my creative energy.  Occasionally a burst of imagination still pops into my mind.  I picture one day in my head vividly.

It’s just after meal time with the boys and I look at the carnage on the floor below their highchairs.

This photo in no way represents the amount of food on the floor after one of their meals.  If I ate what they casually toss to the ground it would qualify as the “cheat day” on my diet.  Nonetheless, I imagine a day like any other where I get them out of their seats and begin the mundane process of picking all the uneaten food up.  As I search the corners of the room I find a several discarded Cheerios.  They’re the remnants of the first course of every meal they’ve ever had.  As I bend over to pick up the last Cheerio hundreds of balloons begin to cascade down upon me.  A confetti cannon bursts just as a marching band comes blaring through the front door with a cheer squad right behind.  Several smiling corporate looking people, one holding an oversize check. come over and start hugging me, shaking my hand and shout congratulatory.

I’VE JUST PICKED UP MY ONE MILLIONTH CHEERIO!!

(It would look something like this.  And I imagine the Clintons being there now that they have some idle time.)

After the initial celebration a few corporate lackeys come in and place a dais in the middle of the dining room for the big wig to make his speech.  A grand chair of red velvet is set out for me to sit on amidst the throng of fans I’ve unwittingly made as I’m honored for my unbelievable achievement.  The big wig starts by pointing out the improbability of what I’ve accomplished.  Unlike any sane person I’ve chosen not to use the hand vacuum to make my job easier. It’s a nod to the kind of dogged stupidity needed to do what I’ve done.  He/She (no reason a woman can’t be the big wig) also thanks me for not bowing to purchasing cheaper trendy Cheerio knock off brands at Trader Joe’s.

(Shame on you as usual Trader Joe’s)

Fun facts about what I’ve achieved are thrown out for the crowd to be amazed by.

• 847, 456 – The number of Cheerios on the floor I’ve encouraged my dog to eat.
• 368, 221 – The number of foul words I’ve used while picking up the healthy circled treats
• 106, 834 – The number of Cheerios I’ve stepped on creating a fine coating of Cheerio dust on my floor at all times
• 5,859 – The number of Cheerios that still remain hidden somewhere in the corners and cushions of my home

Then come the testimonials.  A large heavy set mouse from my previous home speaks in admiration of my determination to pick up every last Cheerio, yet always fail to see several that formed 50% of his diet in 2016.  He jokes that when we moved he tried in vain to jump into one of the packing boxes to ensure his food supply.  He then excuses himself to burrow into one of the walls of the new home.

(This mouse will be featured on next season’s Biggest Loser, when he breaks down and cries after his first workout, and admits to a trainer that he’s never had the same self esteem as his thousand brothers and sisters.)

Next up is Juana, who comes every two weeks to clean our house.  After she speaks, corporate officials let us now she was only 300 Cheerios away from stealing this honor from me.

Along with the Clinton family, some of my favorite celebrities are there as well to wish me well including the entire cast of the short lived Firefly, a show I’ve never watched but have heard wonderful things about.

(I promise them I’ll watch the lone season of their cult it on Netflix as soon as possible.)

At the ceremonies close, I’m given the key to Valley Village, California and the day is declared in my honor.  All of this goes out on a live feed to every network and overshadows whatever Donald Trump has tweeted that day.

What do you think about when you pick up a Cheerio?

Least Favorite Child Results

There’s a month to cover here as work and the holidays took me away from my blog.  It didn’t prevent me from calculating who was the favorite each day.

December 11-16

Arthur was the Least Favorite five out of six days.  He’s going through a real douchey phase.  Crying for no reason, throwing fits when he’s not happy with the food presented to him, tantrums any time he gets a diaper change.  Do 19 month old boys experience menopause?

December 18-23

Arthur edges out Charles this week as least favorite four to two.  Arthur likes to hit milestones only after my wife and I start to become concerned.  He sit up on his own only after we spent weeks wondering if he had some spinal deformity.  He walked only after my wife shed tears that he might have some serious physical issues.  This week we wondered why he didn’t engage us much and Googles, “signs of autism.”  Moments later he smiled and began engaging us.

December 26 -31

Charles edges out Arthur for the honors four days to two.  Charles is very vocal.  He likes to march around saying ‘happy” over and over again.  It’s very cute.  Less cute is that he likes to march around and say, “die, die, die” more than “happy.”  We Googled, “signs your toddler may become a murderer.”

This week

January 1 – Least Favorite is Charles. How did you start off the New Year?  I started it off in the grocery store with a child happily screaming, “Die, die, die” to people who tried to say hello.

January 2 – Least Favorite is Arthur. Arthur introduced himself to his new daycare provider with tears and a loud dump.  Way to put your best foot forward.

January 3 – Least Favorite is Charles.  He likes to put food in his ears.  My next Google search will be “How to remove snow peas from the deeps wells of a child’s ear.”

January 4 – Least Favorite is Arthur.  He’s a passionate music critic.  There’s a song about a dinosaur on a loop of music that causes him to cry and wail as if he’s standing in the middle of war torn Aleppo.

January 5 – Least Favorite is Charles.  His new hobby is attempting to strangle himself with iPhone charger chords.  I’m beginning to understand what “Die, die, die” might mean.  Of course he later chanted “happy” over and over again so he’s pretty conflicted.

Least Favorite Child Year One – Charles

Total Days As Least Favorite Child – Year Two

Arthur – 105

Charles – 92

Days since Neil Patrick Harris received my post and hasn’t responded – 502