The secret to true happiness is part of this complete breakfast

I’ve been walking on sunshine these days and I must admit it feels pretty darn good.

There are many reasons for my newfound pleasant disposition.

Spring is in the air, which means between snow flurries we get to hear the song of birds, the buzz of bees and the melodic strums of kids who kicked out of their apartments for playing “Good Riddance [Time of your Life]” one too many times.

When you add to the increasingly muddy weather the fact that school is almost over and the summer movie season will soon be upon us, I don’t see any reason to complain.

My days have been going so well I normally only hit the snooze button once and that’s just for health reasons.

My day got even better because I had Fruit Loops for breakfast, which has always been one of my favorite cereals, despite the fact that it features the ever-popular flavor of lemons in milk.

Actually to be honest I didn’t have Fruit Loops, I can’t afford cereal that comes from boxes. I get my cereal as Mother Nature intended it, from a giant plastic bag.

You all know the bag I’m talking about. The huge sack of discount cereal that doesn’t fit in your cupboards so you have to drape it on top of the fridge, hoping you can eat it fast enough that it won’t fall and kill you.

These bags are so big that after finishing one, buying the next bag is a huge decision because it ends up being a three-month commitment.

That may seem like a lot of time dedicated to something so trivial, but you’ve got to remember, I spent my childhood playing Pac-Man marathons and the Final Fantasy series. I’m used to it.

Still, I’ve spent longer trying to decide between Marshmallow Mateys and Cocoa Dinobites than some people around here spend dating before they get engaged.

Please note: The preceeding joke was not a personal attack on you. Please don’t send angry letters telling me how great it is to get engaged to a guy you met on the bus. It was a personal attack on your neighbors. You must agree with me that they’re pretty stupid.

I didn’t used to always like bag cereal. Like red potatoes, Coke and Pauly Shore movies, bagged cereal is an acquired taste.

And like most such tastes, I would never have acquired it without my parents tricking me.

My mom, engaging in the parental psychological warfare that made her three-time P.T.A. president, would buy the cheapo cereal and stick it empty boxes of brand-named cereal.

I spent 10 years thinking that either I or Lucky the Leprechaun was a total moron because what he said were clovers looked a whole lot like parrots in my bowl.

The day I figured out the truth about what I was really eating ranks along side of parental betrayals like the true nature of Santa, my beloved puppy going to “live on a farm” and learning my parents really loved my little sister as much as they did me.

I guess you could say it was my fault for never realizing that the crossword puzzle on the back never changed.

Beyond this heartache, I’ve never had reason to complain about generic brand cereal. Really it has the everything I’m looking for from a name-brand cereal: Something to eat along with my toast, enough sugar to get me through ’til my afternoon Big Gulp and most importantly, something unnaturally colorful.

For some reason, whenever I see something small and colorful, I feel strongly compelled to stick it in my mouth. I figure it’s just one of the many things from my childhood that my parents think I outgrew, but really just got better at hiding.

I figure with such cereal in my life how can I not be happy?

And how can I not geek on?

Steve Shinney is a junior in computer science who is quickly finding out that his cereal-induced optimism will not get him through finals. He’s currently

experimenting with

chocolate milk. Comments can be send to

steveshinney@cc.usu.edu.