Hopper's Law of Cereal Box Disposal

Prop: On any given trash pickup day, ten minutes after said trash is picked up by the outside service vehicle which does such things, every cereal box which one will tip to pour crunchy nuggets into a bowl of milk will contain only a smattering of flakes.

Addend: If you check the cereal boxes before bagging up the trash, said boxes will always all be full.


Happened to me today, this morning. Happened last Friday morning, and the Friday morning ere that. But not the Friday before that last Friday, because I had the foresight to check the cereal boxes. Ergo the addendum.


Cereal boxes really tick me off. I mean, really. The boxes we buy for our family of heavy duty, no-nonsense cereal consumers (I’m looking at you, Patch and Little One) hold 648 cubic inches (3 in x 12 in x 18 in), equivalent to 2.8 gallons of granola (at least according to the online unit converter I consulted). Now, envision 2.8 gallon jugs filled with water. Now, empty each jug about two-thirds. Now, observe the result. That’s about how full the box of dry cereal is.

Which is picking nits, except when you consider how outrageously overpriced a box of cereal is. They say you’re paying for the marketing on the box, which is why the box has to be so darn big. I say, give me my cereal in a brown paper bag, then!

It’s not like I haven’t tried alternatives. I used to cook myself a half-cup of oatmeal with half a sliced apple, a handful of raisins, and a teaspoon of cinnamon sprinkled on top. But that was so labor intensive for a kitchenphobe like me it was only practical when I was outta work. Now that I’m working full-time, and have to get Patch to day care and Little One to grammar school, too, first thing in the morning, time-wise we can only afford that bowl of cereal. Unless we get up a half-hour earlier. Which I ain’ t doing, cuz I’m a night-owl.

So, beware Hopper’s Law of Cereal Box Disposal. Learn it, respect it, accept it.

It is completely and utterly true.