I’ve read that eating oatmeal helps reduce cholesterol. So I’m trying to learn to like it. So far, I’m not succeeding.

But I’m doing one of those mind-over-matter things and forcing myself to eat it. And now I know what shoe box tastes like if you put it in a blender and pour milk over it.

I didn’t eat oatmeal as a kid. Oatmeal cookies, yes. I like those but not the mush. Several people told me they like it. So my hat is off to those people for improving their health.

I’m eating the flavored oatmeal — the stuff with fruit and maple sugar. I haven’t even ventured to the old-fashioned kind yet. I might be able to break concrete blocks with my head before the mind-over-matter thing gets me to original oatmeal.

I’m generally open-minded about food. A lot of things that I had negative pre-conceived notions about, I actually liked once I tried them.

Take for instance, calamari — squid. The first time I tried it, I was pretty sure it would be bad. But to my surprise, it was quite tasty.

Then came octopus. Yuk! I erroneously figured that because they both live in the sea, have tentacles and both have been featured in horror movies, then they must surely taste similar. But then one could draw a similar analogy with a wolf and an Angus.

To me, the octopus tasted like ship bilge. And with deductive reasoning applied, I’m assuming it must be really good for your cholesterol.

I think things like this confirm the idea that God has a sense of humor. If it tastes good, spit it out. If it taste like stewed goat hoof, then your days shall be many in the land.

Back to the oatmeal. I’m not giving up on it. I did give up on trying to wash my tomcat. Oatmeal won’t leave me in shreds and bleeding profusely.

And I’m thinking if I try to eat it blindfolded, it might help. When I look into a bowl of oatmeal, I see curds and whey. And I don’t even know what curds and whey are. They just sound like something collected from underneath a moss-covered log in a cypress swamp.

All I know of curds and whey is in the nursery rhyme of “Little Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet, eating her curds and whey. Along came a spider and sat down beside her and said, ‘hey what’s in the bowl brat.’ ”

Actually the spider didn’t talk to her, but that was before Walt Disney. I’m just projecting here. Which is probably what I also would do after eating curds and whey.

I also don’t know what a tuffet is, but I suppose it’s a rather uncomfortable seat that unruly children were forced to sit on while being forced to eat curds and whey. I’m not suggesting that Miss Muffet was naughty, but that also was before Steven Spielberg. By today’s creative standards the spider might have burst into flames for crossing into her space. I’m pretty sure we didn’t get all the story back then on Miss Muffet.

I would think anyone who could eat something called curds and whey would not have been scared of a little old spider. Kind of like John McCain — who actually fought in a war and was held prisoner— is not afraid of those other Republicans.

Rather I would have imagined the Muffet kid picking up the spider, squishing it and stirring it in the bowl. Protein! Oh I’m sorry, that was on “Survivor.”

I don’t think there was ever a nursery rhyme about oat meal. And since they don’t write nursery rhymes anymore, I don’t expect this whole grain delight to ever be so immortalized.

Keep in mind, I said they don’t write nursery rhymes anymore. I didn’t say they don’t still write fairy tales. We still have national budgets.

(Dwain Walden is editor/publisher of The Moultrie Observer. E-mail: dwain.walden@gaflnews.com)