Breakfast for dinner has cachet - but only when it involves making eggs or pancakes or waffles. Cereal for dinner evokes images of sadness, despair, loneliness, a giving up on normal eating habits and instead eating while standing over the kitchen sink.
This misunderstands cereal, and I firmly believe that cereal should have a place in the breakfast for dinner canon. I refuse to call this meal "brinner," however. I feel this is self-explanatory.
Cereal, instead of desolation and isolation, equals freedom. Glorious freedom. And both kinds of freedom - freedom from something and freedom to do something.
Freedom from an inordinate amount of dishes. Freedom from carefully planned dinners. Freedom to indulge in the childlike wonder of the cereal and muesli aisles in the grocery store and pick the box that sounds the most fun, the most delicious, the most satisfying, and bring it home. And then you take that carefully selected cereal and pour it in a giant bowl, cover it with milk and perhaps some fruit (if feeling healthful). And then, dig your spoon in. After every last bite is gone, you can take stock of those minutes, those hours, that would have gone to meal preparation and planning and sit back and relax for a minute. Put those minutes to work and indulge in a hobby - knit a scarf, take a photograph, or even start a blog.