Fruit Loop Renegade



It was the sounds of her children fighting in the kitchen that woke her from a deep slumber. She heard them, the conversation growing louder and more persistent.

“I’ll give it a few more minutes for them to sort it out…” She thought to herself as she rolled over and placed a pillow on her head.

She was dreaming… not literally, but metaphorically. They could never sort their own shit out.

She gave up on hope, and rolled out of bed, tripping on an abandoned Super Soaker that had been thoughtlessly left at her bedroom door.

“What is going on?” She asked.

Two sets of eyes looked up at her. The owners of the eyes both had their hands on a near empty box of Fruit Loops.

“Fucking Fruit Loops!” she whispered under her breath. She had bought the Fruit Loops, the evil sugary devil’s breakfast as a rare holiday treat after much nagging. She went against her gut feeling that Fruit Loops were going to cause far more problems than solutions, and vowed then and there, never to make this mistake again.

As her son’s both launched into pleading their case as to why THEY should be the eater of the remaining cereal, she flicked on the coffee machine. The presentations got more and more desperate, louder, not to mention more passionate.

She pressed the button on the machine, which leapt to life and started hissing out the elixir of life that is caffeine. She took a sip.

She observed the abhorrent behaviour of her offspring continuing to escalate, and she knew that she must act in a swift manner, for she had done many a course in management and her skills began to flood back. All those hours spent workshopping scenarios on butchers paper with equally disinterested colleagues must have paid off.

She held out her hand. The Fruit Loops box was offered over, and the youth’s eyes grew wider and wider, as she poured the remaining contents into the bin, before retuning, once again, the the relative safety of her bedroom.


of Fruit Loops….. FOREVER.