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This is a review that comes with a tale of woe.

Of course it is, frankly the only reason I do reviews is as a cheap form of talking therapy so that I can exorcize the demons of my toe curling parenting failures.

The year is 2010, and for those who have joined the party more recently let me set the scene. Alfie - my glorious, adorable first born child - is six months old. His favourite things are throwing, trying new foods and motorsports, sometimes all at the same time

There is only one small fly in our parenting ointment and that is the severe eczema that covers our son’s entire body. It keeps us awake at night while we stop him rubbing his skin raw. It stops us feeding him vast swathes of food that contain one of the many things that makes his eczema worse and most importantly, it makes eating out a tour de force of planning. 

I'm talking nutrition factsheets for potential eateries downloaded and analysed ahead of time here people. Nothing left to chance and options picked out in advance, because no meal is worth the punishment of a screaming, oozing baby.

Sometimes though, just sometimes we knew we were going to get caught short. 

Sometimes we were going on a long journey, or to somewhere outside of a major city where “alternative” food options were going to be limited and sometimes after a working week, my brain just wanted just the smallest of breaks from having to think about where the next allergy friendly worm was coming from to satisfy my baby bird.

The solution? Take food with us, of course.

We experimented with various items. Baby biscuits were a favourite as long as they were eaten soon enough to stop them from being crushed into rubble at the bottom of the change bag. A boy cannot live on biscuits along however, which is how we come to my tale of woe.

This story takes place on a Saturday. It involves Keith and I running around the house throwing together supplies because we needed to get out of the house. 

We were running late to meet people and do things, which is how I found myself staring into our fridge look for something “sensible” to take with us.

A soy yoghurt. 


It was joined in the change bag by nappies, wipes, keys, wallet, dummy, toys, a change of clothes (remember I'm a first time mum at this point), small kitchen sink, Lord Lucan, a book, and the obligatory pack of baby biscuits for when I got peckish.

We ran out of the door in a tumble of last minute reminders and mental check-lists and set off to meet our friends. 

Sometime later, car parked, friends reunited and entry tickets to the local farm requested I reached into the change bag to grab my wallet.

It took my brain a little over ten seconds to process the messages it was receiving from my hand ...

Wallet is slimy. Wallets aren't usually slimy, why is the wallet slimy? Did I leave a dirty nappy in here without realising? No, not a nappy. Lord Lucan perhaps? No, he’s not even real, he’s just a comic device for the purposes of this story. Hang on, the book wasn't slimy yesterday, I'm sure of that, and what the hell is that on the end of my keys?

A yoghurt pot Tash, THAT’S what’s on the end of your keys.

The soy yoghurt that was previously inside the yoghurt pot? That was not on the end of my keys. That was all over my keys, and the book, and the change of clothes, and … you get the idea.

There was a certain shame in all of this, which only a first time parent will truly appreciate. 

A shame made infinitely worse when surrounded by other, more experienced, parents watching with delighted horror as you expose your rookie mistake, item by yoghurt smothered item.

This would have been a very different story if I had used a Squish Delish Reusable Pouch

My keys would have glanced off the thick plastic of the pouch; Lord Lucan’s ample aristocratic backside would have been no match for the leak-proof zipper; in short, I would have arrived at snack time with a full quota of allergy free snack.

Instead, I arrived at snack time with nothing more than a slightly slimy packet of rubbly biscuits and a son making known his disappointment in my parenting skills.

Five years later and I can still find a home for these pouches in the school lunch box. They’re a great size, easy to keep clean and sturdy - oh so very sturdy - even in the hands of an older child.

If that – and the knowledge that you will never have to empty yoghurt out of your change bag – is something that appears high on your parenting list, give these pouches a whirl.

Your change bag, and comic devices, will thank you.

Thank you to Kiwi Mummy Blogs and Munch Cooking for sending me that little slice of awesome. And thanks to Cole for modelling the correct use of the pouch.

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