The place where "Weetbix" is a dirty word.

The taxi pulled up alongside the factory.  I alighted and was promptly smacked across the face with the smell of cereal.  I was visiting the Kellogg’s Plant. Why? I am still not sure. But I was hungry. And not for cereal. I had been out the night before with Diminishing Lucy and we hit the turps a bit,  I so I seeking a bacon roll and a chocolate milkshake.

I was clearly in the wrong place.

I was part of a blogging focus group aimed to answer common questions Mum’s have about cereal.  I felt like I was back at work,  sitting around the table with marketing, PR, nutrition and dietitian folk. We had to go around the table and introduce ourselves and pose a question that was concerning us about breakfast foods.  Questions like How do you get your kids to eat breakfast, How Daily Intakes are measures, facts about fibre and the old chestnut that we all tend all foamy in the mouth about, SUGAR!

When it came to me, I asked why they no longer put toys in the bottom of the cereal box.

Chatty banter back and forth.

I discovered the percentage of chicken that makes up cornflakes is exactly 0.

I discovered that when you address a group of suits with a sultana on your tooth,  you erase any credibility you had to seriously discuss cereal.

I discovered I was not the only one who gets a case of hives when I see sportspeople being paid to promote cereal.

I discovered that Laverne and Shirly would have been violating several health acts by turning up wearing headscarves at the Kellogg’s factory.

Along with Liss from Frills in the Hills, I discovered you needed to dress like a surgeon to enter the plant. This is her thinking “What the fuck…….”

I discovered that a “tour of the plant” actually meant we had to watch a long video of do’s and don’ts, get dressed like surgeons, including scrubbing up and taking off all jewellery and trying not to fart in the sterilised space.

I then discovered that Kevin the Plant Manager was not happy about taking us on the tour and instead took us to a little room and showed us a box of Guardian cereal,  which is an acquired taste to say the least. I think it needed more sugar myself.

And most disappointing,  I discovered my dream of planking on a conveyor belt was not going to happen that day.

Breakfast cereals.
Do you get your knickers in a twist when choosing yours?