“Now is the winter of our discontent”.
Actually, no that’s wrong. Now is the springtime of my discontent, my discontented nostrils.
Having once again been attacked by some vicious pollen menace last night, I was feeling rather snuffly, so I went to the cupboard and got out my trusty “Nasal Decongestant spray”. After sticking it up each nostril and spraying liberally, I looked at the spray bottle, which read “Decongestant Nasal Spray - For the relief of nasal decongestion”.
Phew, I’m sure glad I picked that bottle, instead of the other bottle of “Decongestant Nasal Spray -For the relief of Third World Hunger”. I’d still be feeling stuffed up, had I have used THAT one!
I love how packages not only tell you what you have, but they love explaining what it’s for as well. Just in case you buy something at the supermarket, take it home and spend the next 3 weeks circling it, giving it “the puzzled eyebrow”, not really quite sure what it is. Then, full of anxiety, you ambush that strange product in the middle of the night, wrap it in newspaper and shove it down the bottom of the bin, never to speak of it again.
Take my packet of Cous Cous for instance. It says “Perfect with Vegetables, meat & fish”. I’m glad that was written on there, or else I would have thought it was perfect for pouring into a bathtub full of whiskey, and go snorkelling in it wearing a terry towelling jumpsuit.
I only wish I had have read this container of oil before I went and lubricated the neighbours chimney. Ok then, salads and cooking it is!
And lastly, let me tell you of my Cling Wrap journey. “Seals in freshness, to keep food fresher longer”. I had only read “Seals”, and then got distracted. I was halfway to Antarctica before someone handed me the Cling Wrap packet to read again.
The odiousness of obviousness is everywhere!
Have you encountered obviousness lately?