There's something off about Yummy Mummy

The other day in a store, I was saddened (as I am every year) by the discontinuation of the Yummy Mummy cereal brand.  I mean, don't get me wrong, the passing of the Fruit Brute always tugs on the old heart strings as well, but...Yummy Mummy, man.  Yummy frickin' Mummy.

The poor guy.  He's just stuck there, damned to walk the Earth forever, dispensing deliciously cursed treats to the children of the world but never able derive any enjoyment from them.  No amount of strawberry banana marshmallows will ever fill the hole left in his heart since The Incident. They turn to ash in his mouth and the milk they swim in transforms into bitterest blood. (Yes, I like to assume that all cereal mascot characters have something in their backstory that can only be referred to as "The Incident".  Don't even ask about Snap, Crackle and Pop.  Your mind would be blown.  I don't judge you, and expect the same courtesy in return.)

I might have mentioned in passing to Ladytoa that if they brought that back every year for Halloween that I would be, and I quote, "All up in a bowl of Yummy Mummy's business."  I might have added a "Like whoa" to that statement for emphasis, but I don't honestly recall.  For our purposes today, we'll assume I did not.  If later fact checkers prove me to be mistaken I will happily take full responsibility.

My wife got upset at this statement.  And I don't mean in that simmering way that wives are always upset (you know what I'm talking about, gentlemen.  It's cool.  You can pretend you don't while they're in the room watching you read this but you know. You always know.) and just waiting for a chance to pounce at a sign of weakness.  I mean she was legitimately bothered.  Like I did something horrible and shook a baby or mistook a local funeral for an underground "food rave" (again. She puts up with a lot, my wife).

I thought that she was messing with me.  Who in their right mind can actually be upset about Yummy Mummy?  People the world over love things that are Yummy.  Yum! Brands, Rachel Ray and others build their whole damned brand identities on it.  And Yumminess, make no mistake, is implicit in the mandate of the Yummy Mummy.  But, no.  She was for real offended by it.

Could it be that she's bothered by the fact that Mummies might have something to do with ancient Egyptian paganism and therefore they're not appropriate for children cereals?  I suppose it's possible, except for: A)the woman loves things based on ancient Egyptian paganism.  Like books.  And Kittens.  And Senet (looks like it's back to the House of Repeating Life for you, scummy) B) We don't have any children to worry about exposing to such things C) She's never expressed repulsion at Harry Potter, or comic books or Mega-Dino-Ultra-Laser Jesus -an invention of mine that will bring people roaring back to the Church.  The kids love lasers.  The fact that I have no real interest in bringing people to Church has no bearing on my love of lasers.  and D) that's an absolutely stupid thing to worry about.  If crap like that offends you, explain to your kids why it's not appropriate and make sure they have the information to make their own decisions while secretly hoping that they'll follow your way of thinking.

Well, it turns out not so much.  This is a thing that people in other parts of the world (not the Northeastern United States.  Mostly in the Commonwealth of Nations) call young ladies with children.  Young ladies with children that you might like to get to know in a sexy way.  What kind of a sick bastard takes something pure and innocent and already cursed to walk the earth in abject loneliness and turns it into this:

I assume she has at least 900 children.  Bonus points for a "Chav" Calendar though

I admit a certain amount of confusion even so.  Someday, if there is to be a little Markatoa or Markatoette the mummy in question will be my wife.  So if I want to talk about being all up in there where's the harm?  It already would've happened or someone has some 'splainin to do when it comes to those kids.  Maybe not the most romantic way to phrase it, and probably not a thing that needs to be talked about in public (haHA.  Take that, it's all on the Intertron now.) but can you let it ruin your love of childhood sugar memories?  I don't think that you should.