When I was growing up, and my mother went to the local grocery store chain to “get her order” for our large family, I always made sure that I was the kid designated to pick out the cereal. Cheerios, Rice Krispies, and Wheaties were staples. I willingly ate them but was addicted to the sugary sweet cereals like Cocoa Crispies, Sugar Smacks, and others. Ultimately, though, what swayed my final choice was always the various toys contained in each box. The nutritious cereals rarely, if ever, had a surprise inside. No matter the brand (Post, Kellogg’s, etc.), the companies saved the “free stuff” for the sugar-coated cereals, the kind that rots your teeth after eating the entire box.

But, boy, what toys!

Of the small plastic figures, my favorites were the cowboys, Indians, Robin Hood, dinosaurs, zoo animals, and state license plates. Beginning in the 1970s, Kellogg’s introduced 3D trading cards. Those held their value, bringing in quite a few bucks from collectors on E-Bay and other exchange sites, especially if the shows a famous player and is in pristine condition:

Of all of the food issued baseball cards, the run of Kellogg's three-dimensional cards are by far the coolest and set the standard for food related giveaway cards. Beginning in 1970, and ending in 1983, Kellogg's put a 3-D card in specially marked boxes of cereal. Now, you could not only eat your Wheaties, but admire a baseball star in 3-D glory.

(We’ll forgive the author for forgetting that General Mills produced Wheaties.)

Back then, the cereal companies knew they could profit by enticing children to buy their cereals with cheap goodies. Who could have foreseen, though, that the kids who collected and saved those same goodies could now make money on them?

Collage made using images without known copyright restrictions.

Back then, of course, we weren’t thinking about profit. We were thinking about the excitement of wondering what was in the box. Once found, it was fun to play with it on the kitchen table using orange juice containers, milk cartons, and cereal bowls as the mesas in the Southwest or as the woods and cages for your plastic elk, lion, bear, or Brontosaurus.

It was especially exciting to pour a portion of the cereal (always sizable) into your bowl and then start a search and rescue expedition in the cereal remaining in the box. You’d bore through the wheat, oat, barley, or rice foods either by turning and twisting your hand or making it into a shovel that pushed the flakes, pops, or nuggets aside on that indefatigable quest for a toy. Finally, discovering the object wrapped in a thick plastic covering was like discovering gold at Sutter’s Mill in 1849. Eureka!!!

With five siblings, that thrill had to be allotted in turns, but each shared the booty with the others. For my two older brothers, who willed their toy soldiers to me, it was a wonderful excuse for them to play with me by setting up the cowboys on one side and the Indians on the other with the salt and pepper shakers representing the Maginot Line between the opposing forces. For those thrilling 10 to 15 minutes of playing while consuming a “balanced diet meal” it was pure fun and enjoyment re-creating a fictional battle from the 19th century. At the end of breakfast, those soldiers would join the other army men in “our “ collection,” which rested in a big cardboard box ready for war on another day.

Today, one rarely sees cereal companies packaged with “Toy inside!” on the front of the box. As often as not, the boxes are plastered instead with “educational” messages about the environment or with promises that, if you download their app, you’ll have access to pop music.

And indeed, why should they bother to do more? Kids probably sit at the breakfast table today surrounded by siblings and parents whom they ignore as they play some mindless game on their smartphone or obsessively check social media.

Breakfast ain’t what it used to be.

Barney Hefler is a pseudonym.