Obviously, I have screwed up somewhere.

My son pitched a fit this morning — in his quiet, “I’m mad at you but I’m just going to sit here with red eyes and think miserable thoughts at you” kind of way — because I didn’t have the right kind of cereal in the house.

Now, I think he just woke up cranky and if it hadn’t been cereal, it would have been something else.

But dang. We weren’t OUT of cereal, we just didn’t have anything neon-colored.

So I’m torn between feeling like a bad mom because I don’t have the right kind of cereal or going all militant-vegan-sugarless on his scrawny little behind. Probably something in between is the right answer.

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