Flippin' Lids

You know what really irritates me?

Lids that are screwed on too tight & those that don't function properly. I totally get the concept that food must be properly packaged so that we consumers don't end up with nasty communicable diseases & on the receiving end of a multi-million dollar court award. I'm even game when I need to whack the pickle jar on the counter to help get that manufacturer seal broken so that first sterile Valasic can make its debut performance in my tuna salad.

But, I'm not so thrilled when I need assistance re-opening a ½ consumed jar of Miracle Whip from my fridge, same tuna salad scenario. Man Some unnamed inhabitant of my Haus always screws the lid on so flippin' tight that my petite, tiny & cute smaller than average hands don't stand a chance. It's hard to get a grip on those larger circumference lids. Hello, Babe! It's a mayo substitute, not some radioactive goo that must be kept tightly locked up.

OK, fine. Point taken. There are those of you who beg to differ, but I shan't get into the Mayo vs. Miracle Whip debate right now. Maybe later, like when I'm not complaining about lids.

So, back to lids that tick me off. Recently, it's been MiniMe's Disney Princess Gummi Vitamins. When I do the whole "push down and turn" nothing happens except for that obnoxious clicking sounds that means I'm not turning properly. My solution has been to have MiniMe ferry the bottle to Man where he does some Man-Magic and opens the darn bottle for her. Especially since MiniMe couldn't maneuver the kid-proof bottle either. That tells you something right there, doesn't it?

But, Man has been gone & I can't get the vitamin lid open despite numerous attempts & neither can my 5 year old. MiniMe is wasting away as I type. If she ends up with scurvy before Man returns from America, I may have to consult an attorney.

I almost felt bad about being a total wimp & unable to open bottle of children's vitamins, but two other women have tried & failed also. I had Haus guests for dinner right before we left for Bavaria. One of the moms commented on the vitamins & how those were the exact ones her daughter took. You think? Probably because it's the only "girl" vitamins that our commissary stocks. I bet we are all using the same name brand of Chili Powder too.

It's McCormick, if you must know.

She innocently comments on the vitamins and I verbally lash out about the damn lid. She takes 2 steps back from me the cue perfectly and attempts to open the bottle. Ha! She tried again. Double Ha! My other visiting friend tried and Triple Ha! All they got for their efforts was that you-are-a-lid-moron stupid clicking sound too. One HausFrau, one PartTimeWorkingMama & one WorkingMama, average IQ well to the right of the bell curve hump, and nobody can get the kinder vitamins past the lid.

I guess MiniMe will just have to choke down a banana or some OJ until Man returns.

And after she does that, she can brush her teeth with actual toothpaste. You see where this is going, don't you? Straight to a rant about the lid on MiniMe's toothpaste. Admittedly, the lid remains off her toothpaste 99% of the time. It's the stand-upright Crest, complete with kid-sparkles & infused with rainbow/bubblegumish flavor, just so you know. Again, probably the only kid toothpaste the commissary stocks. I can't remember for sure, but I have a feeling if there was a Princess or Hello Kitty brand, we'd have that one instead of the unisex kind with a dumbass lid.

Anyway, I had to slap the lid on the toothpaste so I could pack it for our trip to Deutschland. Upon arriving at our final destination, and after one bucket of margarita, I was having some difficulties with the toothpaste lid. I chalked that one up to being ever so slightly tipsy exhausted from such a long roadtrip & just brushed MiniMe's teeth with water. Can't dare use regular toothpaste because, and I quote,

Noooooo! It's tooooooo hooooot. It burns! Spit, gag, tap dance the feet around, tongue out, waving hand to cool off flaming taste buds & a big swig of iced tea.

I know, my eyes do the whole roll back up into my head thing too.

However, it's not worth the drama.

So, after brushing MiniMe's teeth with water for nearly a week, I decided to publicly admit defeat and ask my friend (Hallo, Heather!) if she could open the lid for me. And, guess what, she couldn't either (or eye-ther). She gripped that lid with great Mama & HausFrau determination & nothing happened except the lid spun and mocked her efforts with that same damn clicking that the vitamins produced.

See, it's not just me. It's these inferior commissary products that I keep purchasing with Man's hard earned money.

Heather likes a challenge & was set on opening the toothpaste lid. Together we sashayed down the stairs in search of pliers, or some other desirable ManTool, preferrably one that could extract a lid from the kid paste. We settled for pliers & Heather clamped down on the lid and turned one way while I held on for dear life and turned the other.

Nothing except click-click-click-click-click-click-click.

Frustrating, I know. But she did manage to pull on the lid just enough that a bit of toothpaste leaked out onto the pliers. Not to appear ungrateful for her efforts, I swiped the toothpaste off the pliers with my impeccably clean hands & transferred it to MiniMe's toothbrush - finally, a little fluoride.

A lesser woman with anger issues would have just chucked the darn toothpaste into recycling bin, but I couldn't do it. It had nothing to do with anger, really. But the toothpaste was relative new & almost full. What a waste that would have been. So, being the cheap frugally savvy Frau that I am, I packed the toothpaste & brought it back to Belgium holding on to a secret hope that Man could open it for me upon his return.

But guess what?

I made one last attempt last night to open the toothpaste and the damn lid practically FELL OFF in my hand. No drama. No exertion. No Man tools. No foul language. No nothing. The lid just came right off like Proctor & Gamble intended.

What the . . . ?

Wow, that was a close call.

I was thisclose to saving the toothpaste for Man. I had it all planned out. Right after he opened the vitamins, I was going to tell him that not only could I not open the toothpate, but neither could Heather, and neither could the both of us. With tools. And our strong, highly-defined biceps. I planned to verbalize the whole click-click-click-click-click thing & watch as he struggled and failed to open the flippin' lid.

Can you imagine?

I almost handed him a lid that was precariously perched. A lid that practically leaped off on its own accord.

I swear this has happened many, many times before. I can't get a lid open, pass if off to big, strong Man & he effortlessly opens the lid, then looks at me like I'm wimpiest wife on the planet.

So, how many HausFraus does it take to open a lid?

Just one. Provided that she's savvy enough to pass that lid right along to her Man.

Who cares about pride? I just want to make tuna salad, brush teeth & give my child a little extra boost in the zinc department.

Without compromising my sanity.

I have recently learned don't ask that lid is also slang for one ounce of cannibis.
Do you think there's connection? Because, I'm convinced.