The Burnt Cheerio

I was a little surprised to see it, being that it must have made its way past many a hair-netted employee.

It tumbled into my bowl and stared back at me; the visual of a cyclops came to mind. Around it were perfect, pale examples if what it could’ve been, but maybe it craved its own path in the factory. I imagine it going rogue and setting off on an adventure, one which ultimately led to repeat baking, giving it a dark, Joisy-esque appearance. Tres unnatural.

Ever struck out on your own and gotten burned? I have – plenty of times. You think it’s the right thing at the time, and then you get chewed up and spit out. You regroup, heal, then sometimes find yourself back in a similar situation a year or two later. As though all memory has left you, you dive in again, get burned again, but you come out alive again, too.

Tonight I am thankful for the Burnt Cheerio and its reminder that adventures might beat us up every now and again. In the end, however, we often come tumbling back out and, if we’re lucky, we’ll land among friends who welcome us back with open arms.

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