Cristen's would go like this:
So, apparently there's some rule somewhere about having to actually get up if the miniature humans who live with you are demanding food. I WOULD ask the judgmental deer to fix breakfast, but, you know, they're judgmental.
Anyway, once I got up and started getting them some calories, I realized that whoever invented the type of plastic bag that cereal comes in must be psycho. That or it was actually a cat who was hoping to make someone slip after the cereal flings onto the floor. Part of their attempt to dominate the world by slowly killing us all by tripping.
On a completely unrelated note, I need to go shopping for breakfast thingies now ...