Where milk isn't really milk

My boyfriend told me to buy cereal because I've been bad at breakfast lately, and even though I said they have weird milk here I went ahead and did it. Erroooor.

First of all, having milk at all is a huge step for me. When I was young my parents tried to bribe me into drinking milk and because I since the age of zero have had an aptitude for feeding my consumerism, I should have been an easy target. I could never do it, I used to say it tastes and smells like liquid chalk. Today I'm not quite sure what that means. Anyway. During a moment of bravery a few months ago I reasoned with myself and figured that if the milk gets to hang around in the bowl with chocolate cereal willing to let go of their colour (an MJ joke would be so good here but what I really mean is RIP), maybe we could work something out. And so I found myself eating cereal with brown milk, all was frid and frojd.

The milk I bought today from the Belgian supermarket looked fine. It was white, came in a plastic bottle with a blew screw cap, nothing mysterious there. When I opened it, my nose that is innately and necessarily skeptical to all things dairy reacted immediately. It really must be a bad sign when milk smells like cheese. Only cheese should smell like cheese. I wasn't comforted by reading that its expiry date is in September.

So now I'm stuck with a shiteload of cereal that I can't eat and will most likely continue to be sleeping past breakfast.