After some measure of drought I furnished myself with a tupperware full of frosted mini wheats the other day. The milk tasted a little fishy, which was perplexing considering I had just purchased it from Kroger (curse its name) the night before. I finished the cereal anyway. But couldn't get myself to slurp the milk. I had to pour it down the drain -- which proved to be traumatic because only a few days before I had had to do away with almost a half-gallon of milk for the same reason. I was preparing myself for a visit to the "customer service" counter at Kroger (curse its name) when I tasted my recently mixed orange juice. Alas, it was bad as well. The wheels began turning very slowly in my mind. Then the creaminess of my otherwise firm peanut butter led me to evaluate the temperature setting of my refrigerator. It was low. I fixed it. Let me know if you have any problems with your refrigerator. I'll lend you my services.

I ate some mini wheats this morning, fishing them from from a pool of clean, white skim milk. They tasted a lot like the box they came in. But I loved them, anyway.