Last night I had one of those vivid dreams where every element and action seems to be etched in exceptional clarity. It was so realistic that I woke up feeling guilty and shaken about my dreamland activities.
In
the dream, I was eating a gigantic, heaping bowl of Froot Loops. I was relishing each sweet, crunchy mouthful of the multicolored morsels, but was wracked with regret at the same time. I recognized with horror that, on a low-carb diet, a colossal serving of Froot Loops and milk was absolutely verboten. And yet, confronted with a bowlful of diet-destroying deliciousness, my dream self could not resist temptation and dug in anyway.
So, I’ve reached the point where my anxiety dreams no longer are about the young me being chased by monsters, or the teenage me being exposed to terrible humiliation, or the young adult me forgetting about a crucial law school test until the very day of the exam. Now my subconscious has exposed a new vein of concerns that, having lost some weight, I’ll promptly backslide and end up right back where I started.
It’s kind of pathetic that Froot Loops would be my forbidden fruit, but I think my subconscious got this one right. Ever since my grandparents took UJ and me to Battle Creek, Michigan for a tour of the Kellogg’s factory that ended with a Froot Loops sundae, I’ve been a fan of Toucan Sam. We haven’t had a box of any breakfast cereal — much less Froot Loops or, even worse, Frosted Flakes — in our house since I started a low-carb regimen in August precisely because I don’t think I can trust myself around it.
I have to say, though — that big bowl of Froot Loops sure looked good.
Webner House 