It's not about Marmite, but if it were ...

I've taken a good bit of grief about our move to the UK.  For some reason, my friends and family think the move had to do solely with getting better access to Marmite.  It might have to do with a Facebook record that occasionally shows photos like this,

Or captures these conversations from our home

5yo: Daddy, I think I would like to go to the UK.

Me: Why is that?
5yo: Because they have swimming pools.
8yo: And?
5yo: And we get to go on an airplane.
8yo: And?
5yo: And the airplane has a TV in the seat.
8yo: And?
5yo: What else?
8yo: They have Marmite!

Maybe it's because this was one of the first photos I posted after we landed in the UK.

I've consistently stated that we didn't move to the UK just because of Marmite.  That said, I do wonder sometimes what would have happened if we did.  For example, it might mean that I've come to appreciate that great bastion of British culture, Dr. Who, because of how it can be used to portray the Marmite / Vegemite discussion.

I could write a haiku about Marmite.

Marmite on toasted
English muffin with butter.
The perfect breakfast.

I could adapt a favorite gospel hymn.

Oh the deep, deep love of Marmite,
'Tis so lovely spread on toast.
When it's eaten with my breakfast,
It's the part I love the most.
Oh, how lovely is my Marmite;
Mummy says it looks like tar,
But there's nothing quite so mah'velous
As a fresh, unopened jar!


Finally, I might re-write a bit of Lord of the Rings film dialogue between Merry and Pippin.

What's that?
That, my friend, is a tub.
It comes in tubs?  I'm getting one!