An Open Letter to the Creators of YoBaby
Dear Makers of Baby Crack,
I don’t know whether to hug you or curse you out. You with your healthy, organic, whole milk cups of deliciousness my baby can’t resist. You with your fruity flavors. (Incidentally, why don’t you make the pear, apple, and banana varieties for adults? Not cool.) I can’t reach into my refrigerator to retrieve one of your yogurts without my child literally becoming ecstatic. His whole body shakes with enthusiasm (or from withdrawal…jury’s still out). In the grocery store, I’m forced to casually waltz by the dairy case, pretending to look at the bread aisle while covertly tossing the six-pack in the cart before he catches on. Six-pack. Coincidence? You, makers of baby crack, ought to be ashamed of yourselves. “Yogurt on a mission.” Nice tagline. On a mission to create addicts…one baby at a time.
And Mr. Gary Hirschberg, Chairman, President, and CE-Yo (c’mon with the play on words already). I know you’re behind it all. Mr. I-graduated-from-Hampshire-College-in-Amherst. We know what you were up to there with your hippie, liberal, artsy-fartsy education. Let me guess. You created your own major. Can you major in yogurt? How about addiction studies? Infant addiction? I think I’m on to something.
And what’s with the name? YoBaby? Makes me think of Yo, baby. As in, Yo, baby, you want summa this? Actually, reminds me of that creepy Sesame Street skit:
Psst. Hey buddy, wanna buy an O?
Remember that? What the hell was that?! Sesame Street had its own version of a drug deal. What the?! None of this is right. On so many levels. Get your act together, Stonyfield Farms. Stop preying on the innocent with your good-for-you snack options.
a concerned and disturbed Mama