Packaging: driving me to insanity

I am usually a mild, kind and gentle person; that is, until confronted with ‘commando’ packaging!

I hate the make up package, when it takes a knife or a saw to get into my lipstick or mascara, not just one layer, but several layers and a few tears later, I get to my new look. For this I need a pen knife.

I hate the Christmas toys that by the time they are opened the child has not only lost the batteries, but is shaving.  Poor grand parents waiting to proudly see the child playing with the toy wait while bubble enclosed parts sit smugly unopened. They could be in the retirement home when that happens. Again my trusty knife comes out, my husband winces.

I loathe the food jars that reduce to me to tears. Although my husband got me a whizz bang gadget that site under the dresser shelf, I have yet to master it. Bottle tops and jars don’t budge.  I do a Basil Faulty, I address the bottle or jar thus… ‘Right we’ll see who wins this round!” and out comes the trusty knife again.

When did biscuits become so high tec? I remember when we bought loose biscuits from big jars and they took them out to serve us with their HANDS goodness gracious me, imagine that, also imagine that without a sleeve of plastic and wrapping. I also know I rarely had any illness as a child, and never suffered from allergic reactions.

I can understand that tools need to be protected with blades, and sharp parts, but why oh why does a two dollar paint pallet for my acrylic paints need a solid plastic coat? It is not for food, it is not sharp it has no dangerous parts and is not made of toxic material. Gets me riled every time.

Meat in trays, well I can allow that. But the so called easy ‘open top’ for the raspberries I buy from the freezer. Give me a break! Might be easy for an ambidextrous monkey, but the trusty scissors perform the duty and the top is left to be pegged by an old fashioned clothes peg on its return. See works for me.

The peel back lid on the plastic wrap cheese? Huh! I can never get the little corner, don’t they forget that we oldies have less nimble fingers?

I am in the shower, I have a new sample conditioner, it has a little sachet that is clearly marked ‘open here’. I can’t do it. With soap in my eyes and slithering across the floor dangerously I get the nail scissors, that is when I drop the lot on the floor, step on the sachet and nearly collide with the taps.

I imagine some poor old woman living alone trying to open all the array of wrappings on her own, what a life that conjures up? If I am that woman, I shall have an array of power tools, a few trusty knives, and a nail file, in fact I shall be armed and very dangerous. Just call me “Commando Granny”

Let me know your pet packaging hate.