cereal

Lisa

My mom was the kind of mom who loved us so much that she wouldn’t let us eat junk cereal. I’m not going to lie: I always wanted her to be the kind of mom who loved us so much that she would let us eat junk cereal. But high prices and the ingredient list always stood between me and that box of Lucky Charms.

I used to commiserate with Jody, my best buddy in grade school. We couldn’t figure out if her mom was crueler or kinder than mine. Her mom let her get any cereal she wanted—so long as she could correctly pronounce the entire ingredient list. Since our second grade reading materials never included words like topopherols or pyridoxine hydrochloride, Jody never got to eat junk cereal either.

My only reprieve came in the form of visits to my Aunt Cindy’s house. Aunt Cindy let her boys eat junk cereal only on Sunday mornings. She’d put the boxes on the table at 7am and take them away at 8am. If you wanted a bowl of the best, you had to be up, dressed and waiting at the table. I don’t know if it was my five boy cousins or the time limit or a combination of the two. Either way, cereal eating was not about enjoyment so much as it was about competition. Lucky Charms were always the first to go; it never took more than 10 minutes for someone to get to the bottom of the box.

A secondary rule at Cindy’s house was that you had to completely clean your bowl before you could pour yourself another. Since I wasn’t a fast eater, it was always about getting that perfect balance—pouring as much cereal as possible, but not so much that it would get soggy before I could finish it.

For our mathematically minded readers, Tagg has been kind enough to put this information into quantitative terms:

The flavor and satisfaction derived from any cereal is directly related to how long this cereal has been floating in milk. The equation in Figure 1 allows us to calculate the optimal flavor timing of Lucky Charms. By inputting x, which represents the number minutes the Lucky Charms have been in milk, we can calculate the Lucky Charms flavor factor, or FlLC. (By inputting 0 for x, we can calculate the flavor factor of dry cereal.) So, for example, after 1.8 minutes, Lucky Charms has a flavor factor of 6.96. After three minutes, that dips to 2.33. After 20, the flavor factor drops to -252.04. For Lucky Charms, the optimal flavor moment is 35.5 seconds, where its flavor factor reaches an astonishing, and nearly perfect, 9.84. (See also Figure 2, the accompanying graph.)

Figure 1

Figure 1

Figure 2

Figure 2

The equation was derived based on theory and verified using extensive experimentation.

I’ve heard people talk about the moment they realized they were an adult. Mine didn’t come when I bought a car or got a full-time job or moved into an apartment all by myself. Nope. My “you are officially an adult, Lisa Piorczynski” moment came in the cereal aisle at Smith’s grocery store in Provo, Utah. As I gazed longingly at the box of Lucky Charms, it occurred to me that I could purchase any cereal I wanted. I grabbed the box and looked at my sister, who was shopping with me. “Don’t worry, Lisa,” she said. “I won’t tell Mom.”

Over the next 48 hours, I was in heaven. I poured small portions, which enabled me to enjoy the cereal at its maximum flavorfulness (9.84!) at any time of day (snack! brunch! dessert! another snack!) I felt confident. Independent. I had arrived.

I never went crazy with my newfound cereal purchasing freedom, though I definitely enjoyed it. And every time I bought a box, I thought to myself, “I’m going to let my kids eat this stuff.”

But something disconcerting happened this past weekend as I was grocery shopping: In the cereal aisle, I watched a college-aged woman grab a box of Froot Loops. I found myself worrying about her teeth and the cavities she didn’t want and the fact that the sugar wouldn’t stay with her or give her the best start to her morning. I bet she can’t correctly pronounce the ingredient list, I thought.

It seems that the “ah ha, you’re an adult” moment comes more than once. Which is to say: Congratulations, Mom. You’ve won again.