I AM A CHEAP BASTARD WITH PISS-POOR MATH SKILLS & AN OVERABUNDANCE OF FIBER
I love a bargain. Who doesn't? I can't stand math. Who can? I haven't always been regular. I will be now.
I was at Albertsons grocery store shopping with Thing 1 and Thing 2. Everything was going smoothly enough, just your basic one is crying while the other is halfway down the aisle day at the market. We were in the bread aisle because we needed hamburger buns to go with the $150 box of meat we bought from some random guy in a refrigerated truck earlier in the week. We were also in the cereal aisle because the two face each other in a constant and endless battle of who is the wheatiest. We did not need cereal.
I noticed a little yellow tag out of the corner of my eye. It was one of those "preferred savings" signs for those of us that happen to be preferred customers of whichever grocer you happen to be in. Preferred being those of us that took 2 minutes to fill out a piece of paper with some fake information and put a little plastic card on our keychain. We prefer savings. Grocery stores eat people like us for breakfast.
The signage was for General Mills and their plethora of sugared cavities in a box that I don't let Atticus eat but secretly miss as a staple of my morning routine. The sign said 10/20.00, and I took the bait.
That isn't the worst of it. This is where my suspect math skills, or the lack thereof, come in to play. Please take into consideration that I was holding a crying baby in one hand and being pulled towards something shiny with the other when I saw the equation and I processed it. Those boxes of cereal were only fifty-cents each! Hold the phone boys, Daddy is buying crap!
I thought I was the smartest man alive. First a box of meat for 150 bucks, and now a lifetime supply of crappy, yet yummy, cereal for ten more. One hundred and sixty dollars later and I've covered two meals a day for months! Freaking genius.
Of course 10/20.00 does not equal fifty-cents, as I realized when the receipt hit me bluntly in the head. No, those boxes cost two bones each; still not a bad price, but nothing to write home about. I felt too stupid to mention my mistake to the cashier, so I just watched as they loaded the pallets of Lucky Charms into my basket, smiling, like I knew exactly what I was doing and everyone else in the store was a freaking idiot. I got home and made cereal for dinner.
I noticed while reading the instructions on the box that each cereal is actually fortified with a healthy dose of fiber and various other healthier than I thought ingredients. Maybe I am a genius. My colon thinks so.