The Dredge House Chronicles, Vol 3

Volume Three: Lisa, the Notorious Cereal Thief

Lisa, my sister, likes cereal. I actually used to call her Cereal Killa. No I didn’t. I just made that up. But I should have. Being that she lived right around the corner from me, she would skate up to my house (literally, rollerblades) and visit me in the mornings. However, I knew she wasn’t really there to see me. She was there to eat my Honey Smacks. Can’t say I blame her. That was some good ass cereal. I should place a hyphen there between good and ass. I’m not sure I’m fond of the thought of ‘ass cereal’. I digress.

So she would skate up and eat a couple of bowls of cereal just about every day. And I was finally like, “Why the hell don’t you just buy your own, then you wouldn’t have to skate a quarter mile uphill in your pajamas every day?” And she was like, “Then I wouldn’t get to see you.” Uh huh. At least the quarter mile home was downhill. Well, one day I was feeling particularly generous, so while at the store, I bought two boxes of Honey Smacks. And when she came up the next morning, I gave her one of the boxes. “Here, take this home and you can eat it whenever you want!” So she did take it home. After she had a couple of bowls at my house.

The next morning, she was back. WTF? I didn’t question her though. I’ve learned not to ask scary questions when I know the answers will frighten me. Well it finally got to the point where I couldn’t afford to feed her every day. TJ had lost his job, Stuart had los- wait – he never had a job. And none of the girls gave us any money. They also didn’t eat our food though. So I was the only one with a job and money was tighter than a twelve-year-old back injury. Therefore I started hiding the cereal. In places you shouldn’t look to find cereal. Like in the bathroom cabinets. Or under my bed. Once on the bookshelf in plain sight of everyone, but stuffed between a large dictionary and an Atlas… So it blended in. Regardless, someone always found them. I would trap the boxes so that I could tell if they’d been opened. And every day when I’d get home from work, they’d have been opened. She had stopped coming over in the mornings, because I told her I couldn’t feed her anymore. So what about all that “coming to see me” shit? Hmmph.

After a few days I had to get super detective and find out what the hell was happening to my cereal. My roommates knew we had to fend for ourselves. I didn’t suspect them that much. They knew how precious my Honey Smacks were to me. I had the day off one day (read: I called out like I did three or four times a month) so I pulled the truck as far forward on the driveway as it would go. The driveway ran all the way down the side of the house to the right. If it were Lisa coming, she’d not see it because she’d be skating up from the left. And I hung out in my room. Sure enough, about 8:30 am, here comes the door handle jiggling. Then the creaking as it opened. Then I heard skates rolling across my living room floor. Then the sound of the entertainment cabinet being opened, and my cereal disappearing.

She left with my box of cereal. Ate her standard two bowls, then returned with it. Sly. Well I had to put an end to this. I could pop out and scare her, but what would that achieve? I had to send a message. I had to let her know that I would stand for it no more. Nay, my sister, I will not bow down to your cereal thievery and allow you to crunch all over me. Not my beloved Honey Smacks. Our back porch had one of those ugly yellow lights that attracted a lot of bugs. It took some time, but after awhile, I had amassed quite a reputable collection of June Bugs. Live and dead. It didn’t matter. I probably had close to a hundred of them. And I’m sure they ate their little asses off when I put them in a half-full box of smacks. And they probably actually cycled the food and defecated it too. But I won’t think about that. Either way, I never got to see the look on her face when she poured herself a bowl full of June Bug Smacks, because it was in her kitchen. Her bowl. But I doubt she ate two bowls of it that day. And never again did I lose a bowl of cereal to the wicked cereal thief.

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6 Responses

  1. Becky Riles says:

    Wow your sister is beautiful Space! Too bad she’s a thief!

  2. Moonshine says:

    I am sooo glad you’re not my brother.

    Wait. My brother sucks, so maybe I’m not glad. But yeah. I don’t really eat cereal, so probably we wouldn’t have a problem.

  3. Anonymous says:

    She can have all my cereal.

  4. scott says:

    Sister who steal cereal, find gallon of sour milk.

    That’ll learn’er.

  5. Someone Who Cares says:

    Actually june bug cereal doesn’t sound half bad.

  6. Jeremy says:

    Yeah theres pretty much no way that’s your sister Space. No offense, but …

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