Storm of Thoughts

Childhood Dreams (I love Cheerios)

When I was little, I had a lot of big dreams. One of my earliest dreams, in fact, was to be homeless, although I think that’s a story for another time. But another dream I had was to be in a commercial. And not just any commercial, mind you. A Cheerios commercial.

For some reason, I just couldn’t get enough of those advertisements, especially the ones for Honey Nut Cheerios. (In all honesty, Cheerios still has the best commercials. The dad with the baby and the Cheerios football plays? The holiday commercial with the grandma and the highchair baby? Priceless.) But at that time I loved the cartoon bee and the way he interacted with real children. And those kids weren’t even all that special. Cute enough, I guess. Smiley. Well-trained. I could do that too. “I LOVE Cheerios,” I’d announce, just like the children in the commercial. (And, really, it’s not that hard of a character to get into. Who doesn’t love Cheerios?)

Being the enablers that they were, my parents decided to take me to a talent agent to try to make my dream come true. I was probably only about four at the time, but I still remember walking proudly into the office, looking up at the pictures of the well-trained, smiley children on the wall. I imaged my own image similarly immortalized in a cheap, wooden frame on the clean white wall. Suddenly, we were in an office with a man who asked me to say “I LOVE Cheerios.” The way I always had before.

At first, I couldn’t believe it. This was too perfect. Had my mom told him about my dream? Did he just happen to need a smiley child to be the Cheerios kid? What luck!

But, as I stood there, I began to get more and more uneasy. I looked back at those pictures on the wall. I looked at the man (who I now imagine had receding hair, a few missing teeth, and possibly a greasy mustache). “This doesn’t feel right,” I thought. And so I refused to talk to him. I knew that, not only did I love Cheerios more than most people, but I could also sell it to an audience of children and parents looking for the perfect breakfast cereal to buy. I knew I could say the line, which I had practiced for months, with enthusiasm and the perfect smile.

But, as a child whose favorite word was “no,” I simply stood there and looked at the man, blank-faced, like I didn’t know what he was talking about and didn’t care what he had to say. And I marched right back out of that office without an ounce of regret.

Of course now I think back on that day with slightly more remorse. “The Cheerios Debacle,” I like to call it. I’m convinced that the man was not truly a talent agent, but rather some weirdo in a fake office who never had any intention of putting me in a real commercial. How else could he have known about my Cheerios dream? What are the chances they were actually casting for a Cheerios commercial at the time?

But still. I feel I’ve missed my chance. Even now, when I mention to my parents or Pete how I’d like to be in a Cheerios commercial, or how great I would have been, they tell me I’m too old now anyway. That I should let it go. Easy for them to say.

But I am a big dreamer. Sure, little dreams I can give up on. Being homeless was never a sensible goal. But I will carry this one with me always. After all, I have always loved Cheerios, and I always will.

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!