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    If I had a dime for every crushed Cheerio I’ve managed to rescue from our family room floor, I’d be well on my way to paying my kids’ college tuition. OK, well maybe just one of their textbooks, but seriously, I’m amazed at how far those crunchy finger foods can travel. They manage to make their way around our home: out of the kitchen, up a flight of stairs and into our carpeting. The same goes for the Goldfish that have found a new home in our car’s backseat. Wouldn’t it be great if food didn’t end up flying and instead stayed exactly where it was meant to be (if it can’t make it into my daughter’s tummy, then at least her bowl)? The mom [&hellip

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