Seniors file into the science classroom at the far end of the 1200 hallway. They instinctively grab the three-page packet of chapter eight notes when they walk through the door. As the tardy bell rang, they go to their seats, turn in their books to the correct page and start copying notes. Lead-scribbled definitions and answers fill the packet, and for the first time all year, Mrs. Shaller’s third period dual-credit biology class was silently doing their work. The uncommon silence soon to be interrupted by me and my stomach.

The floor shook. The walls trembled. The desks vibrated. My stomach sang out like a beached-whale finishing the last measure of Beethoven’s ninth symphony. It was so loud that it quickly caught the attention of everyone in the class, including Mrs. Shaller. My cheeks flushed a vibrant red, as everyone gazed back at me and my loud-mouth of a stomach.

I am now a strong advocate for this little thing called breakfast. It’s a powerful thing that a lot of people don’t give enough credit to. Not only is it the most important meal of the day, but it may save you from an embarrassing moment in your third period class.