It turns out a cylindrical container of viscous fluid behaves much the same way. Before you even realize you've knocked the yogurt off the table, the top three tablespoons of it are shooting straight up at you like slingshotted pink goo.
The paranoid reading of this incident is that the strawberry yogurt (or is it Bat Jr. ? hmm...) is out to get me, as almost none of the yogurt got on the carpet, instead landing direct hits on
- my head (from above)
- my mobile phone and
- a lovely long streak on both pant legs.