Gummi bears for breakfast

In the interest of keeping with my breakfast-themed missives, I write today about an unusual supplement to many of my day's first meals during the last month.

It's gummi bears.

Maybe it's because I can get a three-serving package for .99 at CVS, a store directly across the street from my workplace. Maybe because the teeny gelatin mammals satisfy my sweet tooth, which somehow, is more demanding in the day's early hours. Or maybe it's because I resent your glowing face.

No, I can't pinpoint why I'm drawn to gummi bears almost daily. And I can't help but think that the breakfast addition is better than some of my potential alternatives. Things like bananas, whose delicate skin inevitably reveals some unappetizing dark bruises after peeling or like demon candy, which is only sold in my brain and hard to gain access to in the mornings.

Moreover, gummi bears beat out its gelatin candy competition in the shapes of worms or the less animalistic rings. Indeed, if I'm going to eat an animal in confection form, I want the most ferocious of my options.

I also want to fill up my room with gummi bears like a ball pit.