She’d seen him take them out from where
He stored them in a Tupperware
Or something of that kind of box
Whose lid clips down and firmly locks
The goods away, an airtight seal,
A click that you both hear and feel.
But no such luck – frustration grows,
The bloody thing just will not close.
She longs to throw them on the floor
But it’s his place, and furthermore
They’re tasty crackers, just the best,
So, risking cardiac arrest,
A muttered curse, another bid
Through some rotation of the lid.
But nada, zilch – it still won’t clip –
And just as she’s about to flip
He reaches over, turns the pack
So that its side is now its back
And clips the lid straight into place
Before her unbelieving face.
That tiny switch of breadth and height
Makes all the difference and the sight
Dissolves them both in fits of laughter
Until he says, some minutes after,
“It’s not that clever, to be fair,
I also thought the thing was square.
And struggled just the way you did –
Crackers both sides of the lid.”
