October 20, 2013

Nutella, Puh-leez.

Advertisements would have us believe a lot of things.

That potty training will be a fun experience for parents and kids alike if we use technology to do it. If you've potty trained a child -- or even a puppy -- there's no app, tablet, laptop or gadget that can make it fun.
Yeah. An iPad on a potty chair. Fun for everyone!
That we'll have wrinkle-free radiant faces after a few applications of the right lotions and potions. Listen, you can butter up your face in every kind of oil, spackle and even acid, but wrinkles will forever be there. Don't ask how I know that.
Yeah. Not.
Of course, there's more. Achieving a lean, hard-bodied physique after just sprinkling magic fairy dust on food without exercise or change in diet. Irresistible magnetism to the opposite sex because of wearing the right scent, driving the right car or even drinking the right top shelf vodka.

I've decided that Nutella should be added to the list too. No, not because of claims that the product was advertised as a healthy breakfast spread. And seriously, did anyone think it was even remotely healthy after that first spoonful? (Because I've -- um...known people who've eaten it by the spoonful. Yeah. Known people.)

No, Nutella, we knew those were lies. What we can't get over is the TV spot. You know, the one set in the kitchen of some middle class family during the middle of a busy morning. And the mom's in the middle of it all.

She's got at least a hundred children hovering around the kitchen counter. They're hungry, and the mom calmly gives everyone their fix of Nutella slathered on toast, crackers -- maybe even an old shoe. 

That would've been fine, but these thousands of children aren't satisfied with their fix. No, they want more and they're all asking for things. At the same time. One wants to know the capitol of West Virginia. Unflapped, the mom answers.

Another can't find something and asks the mom. She pulls whatever the lost item is out of thin air or it could've been out of her bra. All I know is by then I'm so nervous for her, I just want to scream at the millions of kids in her kitchen to just SHUT UP AND PROBLEM-SOLVE, PEOPLE. But yet this woman continues to dole out the Nutella spread on cardboard with a Stepford Wives grin on her face.

Then finally, she's sending off the trillions of children on their ways with kisses for all.

The last to leave is her husband. Where the bleep has he been all this time, anyway? She kisses him as he exits, of course hands him some Nutella-covered food product. 

But then, just like their bajillions of children, the husband remembers that he too has forgotten something. Enter Nutella Super Mom to the rescue: she reaches into some invisible orifice and poof! She dangles the keys he's forgotten!

They exchange Ward and June Cleaver laughs and he goes off to work wherever Nutella-Eating-Conveniently-Absent-Until-They-Need-Something-Husbands work as the mom
good-naturedly,
contentedly,
happily,
waves goodbye.

And we're to believe that? All of that? Seriously?

Nutella, puh-leez.


4 comments:

  1. ROTFLMBBO!! Won't eat that stuff, ever. Wrinkles I've earned by surviving every thing the world tried to convince me was good that I did to excess (Hey - I'm an American - is there any other *way* than to do something to excess?)

    Good, seriously funny stuff here, Rochelle - good to see your stuff here, as always :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. :)

      Stay away from it, Rick. Ain't nothing like the Nutella trap. I've taken to considering wrinkles as earned badges too. Trophies, if you will. ...now if I could only find a storage cabinet (other than my face) for 'em.

      Thanks, as always, for reading. :)

      Delete
  2. Hilarious. Love it! (But don't make me give up my Nutella please.) ;)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Okay, we'll allow it...and just keep it as our little secret, Ann. ;)

      Delete