Tastes like home

I have re-discovered Alpha-Bits cereal! I really do believe that this is going to be my new favorite.

Growing up, my parents didn't allow us to have sugar cereal unless it was a special occasion. On birthdays we got one box of the sugar cereal of our choice all to ourselves (after we shared one bowl with each sibling). My definition of sugar cereal is crazy colors and marshmallows. I believe that was my parents' definition as well. They did allow cereals like Frosted Flakes, Honeycomb and ALPHA-BITS!

I was in the cereal aisle the other day when I came across the Alpha-Bits. I had to have them! The next morning when I had myself a bowl, I was back at home in Powder Springs at our white-tiled kitchen table. It was great. You know how there are those certain tastes and smells that just bring you back? Well, there is actually a specific memory that this cereal brings to mind and I thought I'd share it with you:

It was sometime between the years 1995-1999. I say that because my brother, Abe, was in high school at that time (you'll see why later). We were privileged (read: disadvantaged) to have a Russian foreign exchange student living with us. His name was Slav. It was a very interesting experience. Later we would find out that he and his father were members of the Russian mafia and the only reason he came to America was to get a car. But, I digress. Slav had only two outfits. One of them consisted of very tight fitting white jeans that he wore with a black and white silk button up shirt. The other outfit was similar, only he wore black jeans. He did have a pair of regular jeans that he would sometimes wear with a random t-shirt. During the time that he lived with us he learned that my mother liked to make blue jean quilts. Well, one day, my mom, Abe, and I were in the kitchen. Abe was sitting at the end of the table (by the door to the deck) eating Alpha-Bits out of a shallow, yellow bowl (remember those, siblings?). All of a sudden, Slav walked into the kitchen wearing a pair of cut-off jean shorts, shorter than Daisy Duke's! In his hand he held the legs of said cut-offs. Seeing this sight, Abe immediately spit out the cereal that he had in his mouth! With the proudest look on his face, Slav said, "I haf blue jean for your qvilt." (to be read in a thick Russian accent). My mother, being the classy lady that she is, graciously accepted the jeans and thanked him. After Slav walked out, Abe told my mom that he would not be seen at school with Slav wearing those shorts. I just sat there laughing.

I don't think I will ever forget that.