It’s Time to Get Serious: Attack of the Mummy

We’ve been serious on this blog before. We’ve covered the essential points on alien invasion and zombie attack. We’ve even discussed what to do in the event of that most terrible of apocalypses, the family wedding. Now, it’s time to cover something a little more… dry. Attack of the killer mummies.

Before you panic, rest assured that attack of the killer mummies is largely a localised issue, geographically retricted to certain regions of the world. So, unless you’re a museum worker or considering a move to Egypt, this may be of largely theoretic interest (unlike weddings, zombies and aliens, which are common problems for everyone).

Unfortunately, unlike our previous posts in this series where we offered you a number of carries and carriers as options in the likely event of your chosen apocalypse; there is only one option for a carrier when you’re being attacked by killer mummies. Pamir.

Alas, pamir is your only hope when you’re being chased through Giza pursued by the undead. Why? Operational camouflage, of course. It’s just a whole lot of cloth woven on a really old loom that looks like bandages. It’s identical to the mummy’s standard uniform. Throw in some gaudy jewellery, moan a bit and with a double hammock back carry, you’ll blend right in. Since the Egyptians typically took it all with them when they went to the afterlife, no mummy is going to be surprised that a fellow mum-mummy found it hard to get a babysitter for a few eons on short notice.

Before you panic and realize there is no way you can afford Pamir, don’t worry, you probably don’t need it. You see, just as an attack of the killer mummies is geographically localised, it’s also socially localised. It’s generally restricted to upper-class bookish types with a faux British accent and a family estate. Alternatively, it’s also reasonably common among grave-robbing, heat-of-gold loners with a penchant for snappy one liners. If either of these are you, then start stalking and get that wrap. Otherwise, relax. The only Mummy you have to worry about is the one you haven’t called for two weeks.

Which apocalypses have you averted with babywearing? What’s your idea of babywearing humour? Leave a comment and let us know!