I had gone to the store. Among other things, I picked up a box of juice boxes for the kids’ lunches.
A trick I recently learned: to open both ends of a box of drinks or cans, then you can gently move them all as a group into the fridge like loading the bullets from a stripper clip. It’s very slick.
I popped open the one end of the box. Halfway to success right there. At the other end is where I was met with resistance. The glue holding these flaps was more extensive than those on the first end.
So what does one do when facing increased opposition? Bring in reinforcements!
I drew my short utility knife, the suburban dirk if you will, from its sheath (my pocket) and prepared for battle.
Along the edge of the box was a perforation. A bullshit perforation to be certain. But it gave me a guideline to begin the operation.
The knife was in and I began a short sawing motion. About halfway through the edge, I had realized my error. The ruby fluid was slowly coming down the bottom of the box. I quickly got the box righted and in the sink, pulling the clean boxes of fruit punch from the opened, dry end of their container. All was cleaned up and none were the wiser.
Except the poor wounded juice box who wound up dead due to friendly fire.
Thus ends my tale of shame. And what better way to hide my idiocy than write it up on my blog? At least these moments lend themselves to enigmatic tweets.