Jill's Journal: Thrill of treasures found in cereal returns

There was a time when grocery shopping wasn’t grocery shopping: it was high-stakes negotiation.

My mother may have believed she was buying breakfast cereal.

I, however, viewed the weekly ritual as a treasure chest find.

Back in the 1970s, cereal wasn’t judged by fiber content, sugar count or whether it was “part of a balanced breakfast” as those commercials led us to believe. No, cereal was judged by what rattled inside the box.

The prize.

The toy.

The trinket.

It was the very reason we begged, pleaded and, if necessary, staged dramatic aisle-side protests.

Did I care what the cereal tasted like? Well, yes … and no.

If a box of cereal came with a decoder ring, a glow-in-the-dark monster or even a cardboard 45 record by The Archies, it was going into the cart.

Kids today are raised on instant gratification and two-day shipping, so likely wouldn’t understand the thrill of the prize at the bottom of the box.

First came the anticipation.

Then came the agonizing wait to get home.

And then, a bowl or two later, the thrill of the find as prize peeked its way through the colorful nuggets. to be honest, some of those prizes were gloriously underwhelming.

I well remember expecting the latest and greatest in these cereal box treasures.

Instead, we got a paper parachute that drifted two feet or a “magic” trick requiring far more imagination than magic. 

All those years ago, I’m fairly certain our cereal choices were often dictated by promotional tie-ins. And once again, Kellogg’s is putting toys back in some cereals tied to the upcoming Toy Story 5. I’m excited that kids today will get to experience the thrill of the find. What worries me, however, is how modern cereal prizes might compare. Will they still be weird little plastic oddities? Or will they be QR codes.

Please don’t make it a QR code.

Nothing kills the romance of a cereal prize faster than “scan here for digital fun.”

Kids today need wonderfully useless treasures, like a spinning top, a tiny figurine or a decoder ring that decodes absolutely nothing.

Bring back the nonsense and the ritual of kids convincing their moms that sugar-coated marshmallow cereal is somehow a reasonable breakfast choice.

Looking back, maybe those prizes weren’t trinkets at all. Maybe they were tiny acts of wonder tucked between the bran flakes and bad decisions. And honestly, couldn’t we use a little more of that?

There’s something comforting in knowing after all these years, children may once again choose cereal not for nutrition … but for the possibility of treasure. 

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to see whether the Sunshine has any cereal with a new-fangled decoder ring. A girl can only hope.