Back when we were living in Burlington, I had a funny (as Wray remembers it) and excruciatingly painful (as I remember it) encounter with a tube of Clorox wipes. In fine print, low on the label, it says to never stick your finger into the plastic jaws that grab the wipes as you pull them up through the top of the tube. The teeth hold on tightly, so that when you stop pulling, the next wipe stays in place, with its little head poking out, ready to be called upon when needed.
My wipes that day were faulty, and I unthinkingly stuck my finger into the bear trap to pull up a wipe and my finger immediately got stuck. I pulled, the teeth dug in, my finger swelled, and hurt like hell. I called for Wray who pressed and pulled and made it hurt much worse. I was crying now, full on tears of pain, running away from Wray who was causing further pain and he was chasing me! I was nearly HYSTERICAL over how much it hurt and I could not sit still long enough for Wray to figure out how to get the thing off without amputating a finger! Every time I trusted enough to let him touch my swollen, red and throbbing finger, he would touch one of the teeth and those on the opposite side would dig further into my flesh. Away I ran! The pain was unbelievable. Wray later said I reminded him of Stan, our cat, the day he got caught in a plastic shopping bag and ran around the house in terror until it finally flew off him in shreds. All we could see was a white blur with red lettering that read Fortinos. That was me, with the Clorox lid eating into my digit.
Wray's superior strength finally won out, he forced me to relent, the lid was removed and eventually, a letter was written to Clorox. It's a stupid lid, I believe I said. Stupid, dumb and dangerous and should never be used by humans!
I bought some wipes the other day. The new top features a new set of teeth. They're not as firm or resilient, and they operate more like a trap door, with two sides that easily collapse if you poke them. No more getting fingers caught. No more tears. No more fingers swelling up like breakfast sausages. And I like to think I had something to do with it.