We don't distrust bagged cereal because it's different—we distrust it because it's wearing plastic instead of cardboard. Introducing the Bag Cereal Acceptance Rate (BCAR). Europe treats cereal as breakfast. America treats it as intellectual property.

Handsome, charming, emotionally mature — and completely aromatically unavailable. It took me an embarrassingly long time to realize I was not the focus of the date. The focus of the date was smell. I lost to a bowl of cereal I couldn't see.

Cereal does not have a publicist. It prevented pellagra. It carries iron your blood actually uses — iron a magnet finds interesting. It has folic acid that has, statistically, saved lives before those lives knew they needed saving. This ends today.

I went into this date with an open mind. This was my first mistake. He's charming, funny, fully present — and in a long term committed relationship with Trix. I refuse to be the other woman. Which is why he remains sixth.

This is not a new question. It surfaces every few years on the internet, gets argued about with more passion than most geopolitical conflicts, and then recedes. We are here to end it. The broth is the milk. The noodles are the Honey Nut Cheerios.

A new series begins. The first thing you need to understand about Cap'n Crunch is that he is not a man who owns a boat. He is a boat that briefly became a man. I was aggressively catfished. I would also almost certainly respond if he texted.

Any rigorous ranking requires established criteria. After considerable deliberation, the following metrics were selected: presence, stability, and availability. We will proceed from least to most viable. Brace yourself.

The question arrived, as most great questions do, uninvited. We were standing in the cereal aisle when we noticed granola occupying space among the Cheerios with a confidence that bordered on provocative.

Your cereal milk choice says more about you than your dating profile, your Spotify Wrapped, or whatever fake personality type you got assigned by answering questions like "do you enjoy teamwork."

You open the cabinet. Two boxes. Maybe three. Each one a complete cereal. A whole personality. A finished thought. And yet something inside you whispers: what if they were one?

There are two types of people in this world: those who think a spoon is just a spoon, and those who have felt betrayal at breakfast. This is for the second group.

Let's address the lie we have all agreed to tolerate: the cereal serving size. According to the box, one serving of cereal is about one cup. One cup. A quantity so small it feels like it was designed for a doll with excellent cholesterol.