It’s sad how when you grow up you can no longer express your intense love for something in the same way — be it your blankie, your stuffed dog, Ralph, or your yogurt. This little guy does not hold back his burning desire for his favorite creamy treat. I feel similarly every time I pass a Pinkberry. I want to gasp. To shout. To put my head under the yogurt nozzle and pull forever and ever. But instead, I repress. Yogurt Baby expresses what society no longer allows me — or him — to. According to my calculations, Yogurt Baby is now in his teens. I wonder if he still likes yogurt. [Videogum]
