Cereal Thriller

In the days pre-awareness of choking hazards it was always very exciting to discover, either by accident or intentionally, what free giveaway gift was lurking in the breakfast cereal box.

The decision over which type and brand to purchase was usually made on the basis of the freebie rather than on any nutritional grounds. 

This could result in a near riot down the cereals aisle of the supermarket from competition amongst siblings to get first choice and, importantly, be the first to get their hands into the depths of the inner packet to retrieve the action figure, self assembly toy, booklet or even a vinyl record disc amongst many other items on promotional offer.

I always felt it was a shame when the perfect packaging was ripped apart, squeezed to bursting point and the contents roughly emptied out into a receptacle in the mad search for the non-food item hidden amongst them.

I soon developed a process whereby the open topped box and inner transparent wrapper could be rhythmically and steadily shaken which coaxed the freebie to work its way through the Sugar Puffs, Cornflakes, Rice Crispies, Coco-Pops, Golden Nuggets and other small grained foodstuffs up to the top for extraction with minimal disturbance or insanitary handling.

Unfortunately, the percussion and maracas sounds from the exercise made it impossible to do it without attracting the unwanted attentions of the rest of the children in the family and another predictable riot and cries of 'It's not fair'.

There was also no guarantee, without having the luxury of X-Ray vision, that the concealed and yet eagerly awaited incentive to purchase, would not be one of the same already now lying around the house, discarded from boredom, damaged or not swappable amongst schoolfriends or neighbouring kids. If a set of figures or booklets formed the promotion you could always count on the phenomena that there would always be a single, unnattainable one thwarting an enviable full set from being collected.

The best things that I can remember to come out of the cereal packets were the likes of Thunderbirds figures of the main characters (We had more Brains than anyone else), clip together models of cars from other TV series, Zoo Animals possibly from Animal Magic, aeroplanes, toy rings and joke shop items. One of the strangest was from Ready Brek and consisted of a long, thin ribbon type plasticised strip which, when pulled through a small aperture in the bottom of a Baked Bean can or other metal container, gave forth the authentic speeches of famous historical figures, Neil Armstrongs' words upon the moon landing being a favourite. I cannot seem to find anyone else, from introducing it casually into a conversation with strangers, who recalls this particular free gift and I am beginning to think that it was a product of my imagination rather than a real, tangible thing. (Letters and messages of support in the comments section below- please....please)

It was necessary to open up the cereal box flaps with some care because they could sometimes be overprinted with tokens or vouchers to be collected towards a larger toy, recreational plaything or money off a day out or another purchase.

In such a way our family were the proud owners of a metal climbing frame, rocket shaped, from Kelloggs, which was a permanent feature in successive gardens even after a series of house moves with our Father's work. I seem to think that the alternate red and blue ladders and bars of the frame first arrived in about 1970 and provided many, many hours of imaginative play and scabby extremities for at least ten to fifteen years before our body weights into teenage years caused the, by now, weakened metalwork to just sag and distort if sat upon or there was an ungainly attempt at a hanging bars swing or somersault. 

It was a sad day when the remains of our very own Apollo shaped climbing frame were carted off to the local tip. It did look small and insignificant.

There seems to be very little by way of a similar type of promotion today with the emphasis being on reward schemes, money off leisure activities, free phone minutes, vouchers for treatments, personalised slimming plans or trips to Disneyworld.

These cannot match in any way, shape or form  that feeling of excitement that I remember well upon seeing the offer of a free gift inside the cereal box packaging and the fear and trepidation that my own brothers and sisters would get to it before me.