Struggles with Packaging or Why I'm Wearing a Band-Aid

I like the holiday season but I try not to get too carried away with seasonal decorating.  Everything that I put up, I'm going to have to take down.  The last time I put up a Christmas tree was in 1987.  I was madly in love at the time.  I put up the tree because he wanted a tree.  Let's call him GB.  (Okay, those are his real intitials.  GB, if you're reading this somewhere out in cyberspace, this song is for you: Cry Me a River .)  However, I digress; this is not about you. 

Typically, when I have the desire to hang baubles on a Christmas tree, I invite myself to help one of my married female friends decorate her tree.  Often, they find themselves with no assistance in tree decorating as many of their spouses believe that their job ends once the tree is placed in the stand.  The rest have been banished from assisting in tree decorating by their wives after placing all of the best ornaments on the side of the tree facing the wall one time too many.  My married lady friends  are always appreciative of an extra pair of non-spousal hands. 

This year I had the urge to extend my decorating to higher levels than in the past.  I purchased a ceramic tree with cute little lights built right in but I still felt that something was missing, so I decided to put up outside lights.

My initial plan was to place them around the front door, but I was too short to reach above the door.  I briefly considered standing on a stepstool that I own.  Only briefly, and then I thought about spending the holidays on crutches and scratched that idea.  I settled on placing the lights on the small bushes that line my flower bed.

I had purchased 200 lights for the door, but 200 seemed insufficient for nine bushes.  I decided to take a rest break and contemplate my dilemma.  I was fairly certain that I could get more lights at the store but I wasn't certain that I wanted to venture out into the frenzied crowds looking for last minute Christmas presents.  Then I had an "Aha!" moment.  I would simply decorate the three center bushes with lights. 

Before placing the lights, I decided to open the package containing the combined photocell sensor and digital timer that I had purchased to use in connecting the lights to my electrical outlet.  I carefully examined the package for a tab, or an identation, some indicator as to where I was to open the package.  There was none.

The package contained a ground stake, a thingamajig for connecting the lights, with a ten foot cord, and was about six inches wide by 20 inches long, and covered in hard plastic.  Evidently, there is a lot of theft associated with this item.  That's the only reason that I could figure out why the package was sealed up like a CD. 

I grasped the package between my knees, placed my fingers on the edge and attempted to pull it open.  The plastic didn't budge but I broke two fingernails.  It was time for the scissors. 

I tried to poke the tips of the scissors into the top of the packaging but the scissors just sort of slid sideways, bounced against the plastic, and flew out of my hands.  Undaunted, I took a firmer grasp of the package and managed to make a small slit at the top end.  Working the scisslors further into the package, I began to cut and was feeling quite pleased with myself until I knicked the outside of the electric cord.

The package clearly stated, "Do not splice, repair or modify cord set." 

I decided to change my angle of attack.  Meanwhile, the five year old that lives across the street had decided to visit me.

"Whatyadoing?"

Fortunately, his mother noticed that he had escaped the nest and called him home.  I was spared from admitting to a five year old that I had spent 30 minutes trying to open a package.

I began to get worried; it would be dark soon and I really wanted to get the lights up and glowing.  What would Xena, Warrior Princess, do?  Letting out a battle cry, I decided to use the scissors like a spear to pierce one of the outer edges.  Success!  I cut a long slit down the side of the package and reached in to claim my prize.

I pulled out the thingamajig, plugged in the lights, plugged in the thingamajig, and voila--Christmas lights.  As I stood in the dark  admiring my handiwork, I noticed that my fingers were wet.  While reaching in to grab the prize, the plastic edge had left me with a few cuts on my fingers.  Bloodied, but triumphant, I marched into the house to find a bandaid. 

Tomorrow, I have a couple of new CDs that I plan to open.

 

Tags: christmas decorating, hanging lights, impossible packaging, plastic