Saturday, January 21, 2012

Dear Milk Container, Why Do You Torture Me So?

Changing the toilet paper roll is no longer at the top of my list of little chores I abhor. You know the list. Everything on there is something that you do regularly and, without fail, each time you engage in it, you ask (in your head or screaming for all to hear, depending on the day), "Am I the only one who does this in this house?!" This week, my top ten list was shuffled, yet again. A new household task has been in the number one spot week after week: Opening the milk container. I cringe as I type that. The milk container. Grrrrrr.
Before you judge me too harshly (Oh, gimme a break! you're thinking, I know), allow me to explain (though you're probably right about me being a weeny).
This morning my lovely offspring decided they wanted cereal. Easiest breakfast prep ever. Ha! When I realized we had finished off the last of the milk yesterday and I needed to open a new container, the feelings began to creep in. I did not, however, scream aloud. That's progress, right?
I gathered my supplies. Yes, those are pliers.
It is supposed to be a simple pulling of the tab. All the adults in the house,
I'll have you know, have failed at opening this with just their hands.
I swear they use plastic infused with titanium which they then weld on there.
Happens every time. Tab broken off.
Now the cow is laughing at me and my blood pressure is slowly rising.
Next option: a knife. The sharp one. I gave up on butter knives long ago. They're useless.
I then saw open the flap, ever so gently.
Don't you want toast instead? How about dry cereal?
Oooh! Cereal with water or orange juice?
Success. Kind of.
Now that flap won't close and because it was ruggedly cut open, when you pour milk, it inevitably spills everywhere. And you know what that means. Having to open another bleeping container even sooner than we normally would have to otherwise. Its a sick, sick cycle.


  1. Suggestion: Take a pair of scissors and cut one of the corners diagonally, and dispense from there.

  2. It could be worse. In Brasil they sell milk in a plastic bag (at least they did in the recent past). In this model you cut a small piece in the corner and hold an opposing corner to pour for consumption--rocket science for young children, a circus act for adults.
    To refrigerate you precariously wedge the bag in a corner behind the salad dressing and the mayonnaise hoping the white mass doesn't tip or slowly roll over while you sleep.
    One semi-successful innovation included tightening a rubber band securely over the closure, which only made opening a rather wet and stretchy process. Others included placing the bag in its entirely in a solid vessel of similar size--such as a vase--to compartmentalize the liquid. On brilliant suggestion was to empty the bag entirely into a pitcher as soon as possible and toss the 'container' forthwith

  3. Rachel, Great idea! I have done that in that past, but seem to have more spilling getting it in and out of the fridge. Hmmmmm.

    Glacierman, Sounds painful. We had those same bags in Honduras a decade or so ago. It was a fun novelty at first. I think I may be in the market for a more permanent milk dispenser soon. :)