The Suitcase Lady


January 3, 2012, 8:25 pm

I’ve been banned from juice boxes.

“I don’t think you should associate with juice boxes any more,” my husband said.

I took no offense as I had already come to the same conclusion. When you wipe out the upholstery in a brand new Fiat 500 rental car, any sensible person would change their behavior.

It’s not that I was unaware of the dangers of those little, flimsy boxes with holes to poke straws into. Memories of an elementary school incident many years ago were still fresh in my mind. I was at a school doing programs on the exact day that the new space-saving pyramid shaped milk boxes were introduced. At lunchtime 400 children simultaneously picked up the boxes, stuck in 400 straws and created 400 geysers of milk. Most of the kids were whooping with joy. The teachers and maintenance staff were less thrilled and brought back the sturdy milk cartons a week later.

Environmental concern was my motivation for buying my last six-pack of juice boxes. Instead of using plastic water bottles on our trip, I opted for a greener alternative.

I managed to get the straw in without incident, but then must have held the box too tightly. Zap…I created a juice fountain all over my hands, clothes, purse and the car seat. Later in the trip, I cautiously tried again. That’s when I discovered that even a tiny bit of juice in the bottom of the box still could erupt like Vesuvius.

So now I am barred from juice boxes along with Mr. Coffee and sewing machines. I’m unfazed; as Joe E. Brown says in the last line of Some Like It Hot, “Well, nobody’s perfect”.

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