Today I am grateful for “open here”. Open where? Oh here, on the perforations? What a clever idea. Okay, let’s try that.
I line up my strong thumb nail, my green-thumb-dead-flower-pinching tool, the strongest one on my body and push it directly on the perforation. Nothing. So I send that thumb nail digging, straight on. Nothing. What kind of glue is holding these lousy coffee creamers and why does it have to be that strong? Are they not being delivered in a cardboard case? Will that case not keep them from smushing?
I get out a knife, nearly cutting off the thumb with the strong nail, at the knuckle. Still can’t get it open. My coffee is ready. I haven’t had it, yet. I WANT my coffee and I want my creamer in it. I’m considering stabbing the entire box to see what might ooze out. I could drizzle it over the cup. If I squeezed I’d get more. You’ve been there, too. I know you have. Maybe not with coffee creamer, but with something else. Chocolate? Chips? Cookies? Pie? Soda? Hah! Don’t tease me! You know you have.
Finally, tenacious as I am, I carefully wedge the sharp blade under the edge at the corner, finessing it along the cardboard to the perforation until the “open here” tab releases its death grip. Okay, good. Progress.
I wedge a finger underneath where it says “lift here” and the thing is supposed to pop open along the perfs leaving a nice neat way to re-close. On what planet? By now I can’t even see the perforations anymore through my glazed-over-need-coffee-eyeballs. I’m pretty patient. . .oh who am I kidding? I rip that sucker so violently that little coffee creamers go flying all over the kitchen like lo-fat-vanilla shrapnel. The box is now useless.
So today I’m grateful for “open here” when you really can, which is rare, but I am glad I didn’t need a buzz-saw. Tomorrow I have to put a new halogen light bulb into a small lamp. Those bulbs are hermetically sealed to withstand a nuclear attack. . .but don’t touch the bulb with your fingers. Is this some manufacturer’s brilliant idea to keep me safe from the quarter inch prongs? Swell. I better have my coffee before I attempt that. I know right where the creamers are. Under the cabinet in the kitchen.