Dad's Cereal
Yesterday, my daughter discovered a hat in one of the boxes gathering dust beneath my bed. She had requested me to "investigate" the contents of an unidentified space—a part of the home she had not yet visited—out of boredom. I would have immediately said no if it had been December, afraid that my young age would be exposed to the truth about Santa's workshop. However, the idea of buying gifts and putting them away felt far away and obscure in the heart of autumn.I had been preoccupied with other things, like talking to my uncle on the phone for an extended period of time, looking aimlessly through pricey flowers on the internet, or penning the longest paragraph anyone has ever written. I needed her to be entertained, whatever it was. So, without giving it much thought, I said yes.