Mrs D tried for some time before admitting defeat and calling in reinforcements. I stepped up with, I suspect, the same sort of body language that most men would display. It communicated “you’re lucky you’ve got me”, “this won’t be a problem”, “you just watch this” all in one.
But I failed to gain access.
Finally, and after quite a struggle, I employed a tool. Success was mine at last! But at a cost. The combination of brute strength and an external tool created such energy that when the lid was finally freed from lockdown, it propelled half of the ingredients across vast tracts of the kitchen bench in the manner made famous by the eruption of Mt Vesuvius. Bits of quinoa were especially hard to locate.
It reminded me of a transtasman flight some decades ago on which we were given very stubborn little bags of salted peanuts. One of our young sons applied such force to his packet that the build-up of energy forced the nuts to explode all over the passenger in the row in front of us. From memory, the pilot had started his descent when I finally gained access to my pack.
Surely one of the worst-affected groups in this regard is people suffering arthritis. You may not be aware that there is an Accessible Product Design Alliance, a not-for-profit group of health organisations that includes Arthritis New Zealand. The group encourages package designers to put customer accessibility at the forefront of their designs.
And is there anyone who can explain for me why someone producing an eco-friendly product would package it in plastic, whether penetrable or impenetrable? The same goes for pharmaceutical products packaged in moulded plastic blister packs.
Perhaps the ultimate irony is scissors on a cardboard base with an impenetrable moulded plastic covering.
The very tool you need to deal with the packaging is imprisoned under the protective plastic. It is taunting you. Indeed, the very reason you bought the scissors was to deal with situations such as this one.
The two packages I described earlier should at least have had a warning about the inaccessibility of the packaging.
As they were at the time of my attempts to gain entry, they might as well have been chained, padlocked and guarded by a fierce animal (fierce animal not included in the retail price).
A moat and crenellations would not have been out of place either.
Reader’s Digest once published some amusing but true warning labels from product packages:
Not intended for highway use (on a wheelbarrow).
Remove child before folding (on a baby stroller).
Do not use while sleeping (on a hair dryer).
May cause drowsiness. Use care when operating a car (on a bottle of dog medication).
Harmful if swallowed (on a fishing hook).
Safety goggles recommended (on a letter opener).
Risk of fire (on a package of fireplace logs).
I feel that “Do not under any circumstances attempt to open this package” on my two products would be just as amusing.
