Dear Betty Crocker,
Ms. Crocker, I picked up at box of your cake mix the other day. Thanks for that, by the way, the mix in the boxes, because there is no way in hell I could have made the six – yes, SIX – batches if cupcakes I had to make last month from scratch. So, thank you, Ms. Crocker, for that.
But, Betty – can I call you Betty? – I just have to ask: Do you have kids? Becaused, based on yor packaging, I’m assuming you DON’T have kids. Which packaging, you ask? Well, this one:
Now, Betty, I have baked with kids. I have had little people so anxious to eat your cakes that they are almost unable to stand on their little chairs. They do not, as pictured here, smile sweetly as they watch. No, Betty, they don’t. They help, in the least helpful way possible.
Here is what they actually do: ad you are pulling out the mixing bowl, they rip open the box, making the directions unreadable. When you pour the dry mix into the bowl, they immediately start stirring (and, by stirring, I mean “throwing it around.”). When you add the raw egg, they stir a moment, then stick a big spoonful into their little mouths. It is horrific, Betty, horrific. And then, the whole time it bakes, they dance outside the red-hot oven, singing, “is it done yet? Are the cupcakes ready?”
I’m just saying, this picture is kind of false advertising, right? Because, if your product could produce this result, I would buy it by the truckload.
If you really want to move product, show a mom with the cupcakes in the oven and a glass of wine in her hand as she reclines on the couch. If we’re going for a fantasy picture, have her husband in the background, cleaning the kitchen.
Best,
Me
