IT'S GETTING COLD

I couldn't believe it either. I was making oatmeal. 

Me. 

On purpose. 

I hated oatmeal. As a child I put more oatmeal in gobs of napkins, or flushed it down the toilet (so I wouldn't be late for school) that I can count. I would let it congeal until it looked like a Frisbee.

There was, in my mind, no way to dress it up. No amount of butter, sugar or Carnation milk could help it. I didn't think raisins deserved such a horrible fate. Maybe if I had known about cinnamon, things would have been different. 

I did, however, like oatmeal cookies. Cookies, weren't for breakfast, though. 

I should have been more grateful that I had a mother who bothered to prepare a hot meal, but I didn't want to smell oatmeal cooking when I woke up in the morning. It was in the "foods I hate" category along with watercress, beets, peanut butter, cabbage, bananas, and lamb.

Here I am. 55. My tasted have obviously changed. I now consume much of what I used to hate. I still don't dress up the oatmeal. I just eat it plain. I don't want it to get any ideas that I actually like it. 

It's getting cold, though. That 70-something degree Christmas Day was nice, but that's apparently over now. Oatmeal season has begun.

At some point, you exchange, replace, or add to the things you like, the things that are good for you. 

It's not suffering, just smart.