You know how annoying it is when those danged Cheerios are always underfoot? The stray Cheerios that you step on with your barefoot on your way to the toaster. The shriveled, hard as a rock Cheerios that you find wedged in the crack of your car seat. The stuck-to-the-table Cheerios left from breakfast. Or the WORST - the Cheerios that have managed to get in between your sheets when Darling Daughter was watching a DVD in your room.
Yes, I stand at the backdoor and yell "CHEERIOS!!" when the cat goes outside and doesn't come home in a timely fashion.
I guess it could be worse. All these years, I could've been standing at the backdoor yelling "CHICKEN FINGERS".