Mmm, the oaty taste of childhood…
I’ve been ill you see – ill from the deadly plague mild fever that has been spreading itself promiscuously around our friendship group with a vengeance, and somehow even managed to get Abi twice, which you would think breaks some rules of the immune system or something. Anyway, aside from making me grumpy and irritable (sorry 
) I think illness also makes me revert to childhood. And so, triggered by Owen cooking porridge the other day, I resolved to rediscover that most magnificent steward of my youth: Ready Brek.
Now, Ready Brek was a wonderful breakfast, especially in winter. And it also came with Snow White stickers and an order-in sticker book, which was a big win. But as much as I remember loving it, I also vividly remember hating the taste of Proper Grown Up Porridge (TM) and so it was probably inevitable that porridge and I would part at some point. Except now they’ve rejigged it all! That’s right: an expedition to Sainsbury’s (with Lucy, who helped carry stuff in what must have been the least exciting visit to Cambridge ever, so sorry) revealed that whilst Ready Brek is still sold in an attractive orange packet it is now bereft of any cartoon action or World Cup 1996 promotions. Much more respectable. (Although I can’t claim this really would have stopped me for long; I still eat Coco Pops.)
This morning was the big test. Would this be its big Ready Break or would it turn out to be a great big Ready Berk? I dutifully followed the instructions for idiots, heated in the microwave (we never had this!) and then – as my childhood dictated – added lumps of marmalade into the mixture which sunk like hidden treasure waiting to be found. (I’ve stocked up well – there’s some nice opaque honey coming up tomorrow.) And… mm, yummy Success!
No apologies necessary! My pleasure
(I got crisps out of it 
)
And Peggle Nights has found its way onto my computer…