Last of the evil oatmeal

Final Day Of The Bad Quaker
FINALLY!…I have come to the last of the Evil Oatmeal.
Anyone else would have thrown it away, but I waste no food while people are starving, yet I seem to have overlooked those who sift through my trash and would have loved a nourishing bowl of oatmeal, had they a bowl?
Anyway the thought never occurred to me and I ate the whole thing myself.
WHAT A CROCK!
That stuff was NASTY!

Usually I eat Quick Oats! They’re Quick! The cardboard can says 1 minute, but you may as well eat oat dirt. I do 2 minutes and they’re splendid.
When the old can was running low, I shopped for another. Alas, the shelves were void…except for the depraved Regular Oats. I bought a big can, the large uneconomy size.

Tonight’s Big Movie
Deja Vu
I’m not watching that again.

The destructions were the same, as the good stuff. Half a cup of oats, One cup of water…easy.
The difference was cooking time. I have a microwave and nuke everything. Good oats microwave for 2 minutes, bad oats 3 minutes.

The additional makes all the difference in the world. When I put the first bowl in to cook it boiled over and I had quite a mess on my hands which I was not ready for first thing in the morning. Bubbling oats were everywhere and the bowl was almost empty. I had no recourse but to start again.

As time went on I found that if I set the timer for 2:15, it would almost never boil over, but I had to turn off the kitchen lights so I could see into the microwave. Each time it bubbled to the top of the bowl. Sometimes boiling over and sometimes not? There was no way to control it. All I could do was watch with my finger on the off button, and off the on button.
I wore sun glasses so the microwave would not affect my eyes.
(You know this has to be true , I can’t make stuff like this up.)

With each successful trip to 2 1/4 minutes I went on further at 15 second intervals, each time watching closely for boilovers, which usually came unexpectedly even though I expected them.

The goal was 3 minutes. Once there the oats were done.

Even then they were flakly. Nothing like the Good Oats.

I fail to see why anyone would go through such an ordeal for such a dreadful ending. It is beyond me and I shall never do it again.

If there are no Good Oates I shall eat pudding.

Penwose Out,
By George