I’ve Got a Package for You

It’s the perfect time of the year for me to tell you that I am sick to death of things that come in packages.

In the last few years, procedures have changed in the assembly line at the factory. In the old days (i.e., 1975), factory workers threw a little glue on a piece of plastic and a cardboard box and voila! We were good to go. A simple, effortless tug opened any kind of package. Today, due to security reasons, consumers now need a chain saw and a welding torch just to get into the cereal box.

"Good grief!" I yelled one recent morning. "It looks like a wild animal chewed open the Raisin Bran box!"

My son walked into the kitchen. "Uh, that was me, Mom. I couldn’t get that stupid thing open."

The box top looked as if it had gone through a paper shredder. The plastic bag that held the cereal looked like King Kong had opened it with his teeth. Cereal spilled out on the shelf.

I shook my head and grabbed a fresh box of Cheerios. I slid my finger under the cardboard and immediately received a paper cut wide enough to seek immediate medical attention. "MOTHER!" I shouted as I began to yank on the plastic bag. I put one hand on each side of the seal and pulled with all my might. My face turned red. My knuckles turned white. My hamstrings hurt (don’t ask me why). The bag stayed shut. I yelled, "I HAD AN EASIER TIME GETTING THROUGH AIRPORT SECURITY IN MEXICO THAN I’M HAVING OPENING THIS *&&^^%&^&^&&& CEREAL BOX!" I pulled out the butcher knife.

"Mom, you’re starting to scare me," my son commented.

As I hacked at the plastic bag, I noted, "This box is more hermetically sealed than my wedding dress, for goodness sake!"

Later that morning as a still-sealed Cheerios box lay in shreds on the shelf next to the Raisin Bran box, I enjoyed a delicious piece of toast. "Thank you bread factory workers for still using twist ties on the bread bag," I muttered to anyone who was listening.

As Christmas quickly approaches, I know what’s in store for me on Christmas morning as my children begin to open their carefully wrapped packages. I’ll be stuck on the floor in my pajamas and slippers, wrestling with thick plastic that a pair of scissors won’t cut through and the tiny little wires that are attached to every Barbie limb and race car wheel. To top it off, then I’ll have to try to open 10 video games wrapped in so much clear wrap and seals that I am forced to open the packages with the electric knife that I carved the turkey with a few weeks ago.

I’m telling you all of this because I don’t want you to worry if you look in my window on Christmas morning and see me in a welder’s mask holding a torch. On such a busy morning, time is the most precious gift because once I get the package open, then I have to put the toy together and that’s a WHOLE other story for another day.

 

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About Vicky DeCoster

Award-winning humor writer Vicky DeCoster is the author of "From Diapers to Dorkville," "Husbands, Hot Flashes, and All That Hullabaloo!" and "The Wacky World of Womanhood." She has been published in over 60 magazines, books, and on several web sites. Vicky lives in Nebraska with her husband and two children where she loves to laugh every day. Visit her at www.wackywomanhood.com.
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