Coming to Grips with My Sugar Mama

So, it's Christmas break and my parents are kind enough to host us for the holidays.  Thank goodness because you can't make stuff like this up . . .

At 6:32AM yesterday, my tiny mother strolled in, smothered in her robe.  She poured a bowl of rice crispies.  Then . . . marshmallows?  Butter?

She put the concoction in the microwave.  And afterward began to consume what turned out to be an individual-sized batch of rice crispy treats.

I said, "Are you seriously eating rice crispy treats for breakfast?  Seriously?"

"It's just grain and sugar.  Oatmeal is grain and sugar," she said.

I plopped the computer on the dining room table and started typing.

Then she said, "Like a granola bar. Sugar and grain."

She kept going.

"With fat free milk, you get protein. Like a continental breakfast of Danish rolls.  That's sugar and grain."

She began her morning devotional, and read happily aloud from her scriptures.

"Nehemiah 8:10 ' . . . go your way, eat the fat, and drink the sweet . . . neither be ye sorry . . .'"

I can only guess what her next comment might be.  Probably, "That's all oranges are: orange flavoring and sugar."

This explains everything.