Every morning for breakfast, practically — unless we are working on the house and are out and about, we might stop for something at the local diner that seriously holds maybe 30 diners — we have oatmeal. Our favorite is Good Food Made Simple, here’s the problem, for months we got it from Costco, then they stopped carrying it, went for a while without it, mourning our hot steel cut good-for your-heart-and-belly breakfast, and then several months ago we found it at Target, BOGO for 5 bucks. YAY!
Yesterday, I ate the last of my flavor, which is the maple, oh my, so nummy. Off to Target I go after work, and what do I find? An empty shelf in the freezer where my favorite should be. Sigh.
My first thought is they will now stop carrying this outstanding breakfast option, because that’s what happens when you fall in love with a product. I used to love a Victoria Secret lotion for years, then one day, I went in and “Oops, we no longer make that scent, sorry.” There is a profound, NOW WHAT? that goes through my mind, and I bet some of my readers think the same, when something is just taken away, and no one warned you about it.
We make a lovely oatmeal that is an excellent stand by, and almost as simple after I make a Sunday batch, but it’s NOT Good Food Made Simple. I walked away empty-handed, a little down trodden, till I found the new Gain’s pods for the washer, and got a little excited about something new, something different. See, I can appreciate something new and something different.
When my scent was taken away forever by Victoria Secret, I began to blend my own scents with oils and perfumes, so that I am never beholden again to someone else’s formula, and everyday, I will combine different earthy scents with a more feminine perfume for a scent all my own.
And should our favorite oatmeal go away (and I don’t think it will, I think they were just out of it), I’ll go back to making our own, or hubby will, and maybe it will be even better than Good Food Made Simple is.
Change is good, it is, I say emphatically, as I go to eat the last of hubby’s oatmeal.