Do you ever realize that you’re the same old nebbish you were when you were 13, only technology has gotten better, so it’s better hidden?
I had an encounter just now with my old nemesis: the milk carton opening. You know, the old-style, inverse pup-tent like affair that you have to sort of “lift-and-separate” to get to open? Well, my lift-and-separate maneuver has always been more of the squash-and-tear, resulting in many mangled containers and associated messy milk dribbling.
Imagine my joy when those little space-astronaut-plastic-docking-station-tops appeared on cardboard milk cartons (yes, this whole thing could’ve been avoided by sticking with the always-safe-with-a-plastic-lid gallon jug, but there’s only one of me, and I’m just not *that* healthy). Hooray! No more trying to jam a knife between the layers of cardboard that should have separated already! No more turning the carton around and trying the “open other side” side in desperation! No more feeling like someone who never should’ve been allowed to graduate kindergarten because of her inability to master milk opening (in my defense, I was a lunchbox girl, and I am great with thermoses!)
Well, all those feelings of inadequacy and incompetency just resurfaced as I was faced with opening a Trader Joe‘s(1) organic milk container. After some attempts at just-the-right combination of lifting-and-separating, followed by some squeezing and pushing (and failing mightily) I ended up using using a fork to pry the damn thing open.
It’s like being 13 all over again. Sigh.
(1) In a classic “displacement,” I hold Trader Joe’s in no way responsible for my shame. I luuuuuuuuurve Trader Joe’s.