did i not know at age two that i hate german chocolate cake?

okay, separate story.
on my eighth birthday, my dad brought me out to the camper (what--you didn't grow up with camper shells on your property that occasionally hosted extended family?) for a secret birthday surprise. i sat down on those thin tweed cushions at the dining table that converted to a bed--the ever-present scent of stale pepper in the air--and he placed before me the much coveted box of strawberry shortcake SUGAR cereal. birthdays were taboo. sugar cereal was taboo. and strawberry shortcake was everything to me. quietly he poured me a bowl, slicing up a banana on top to somehow offset the intrinsic evil of this particular breakfast. these were no cheerios! my heart soared with excitement. so today, it's corn pops, um, and tofu scramble.