No alarms...No responsibilities...And not a care in the world.

Just you, a ridiculously oversized bowl of cereal, ice-cold milk, and hours of cartoons...before somebody eventually told you to go outside.

SATURDAY MORNING CEREAL was built to taste like that memory.

**There was something magical about cereal when you were a kid. It wasn’t breakfast. It was basically dessert that your parents somehow agreed to let you eat at 8:00 in the morning.

Bright colors. Sweet crunch. Creamy milk. And that glorious sugary sludge waiting at the bottom of the bowl. (That last spoonful was the whole damn reason you poured the cereal.)

So naturally...we wondered what all that sweet, creamy, nostalgic goodness would taste like in a cigar.