Two nights ago in Target, I was standing in line when I noticed a display of Deluxe Crackers–you know, those foil-covered things you pull to produce a cracking noise and confetti and other stuff you have to shortly thereafter sweep. Sucked in by the price sticker announcing said crackers were a Great Value at only $5.99, I grabbed a box. I then listened carefully for the telltale chortles of the people closeted away in the Target security room, where they surely high-five each other every time they catch a moron like me making what can only be described as an impulse buy. I imagine they weren’t guffawing quite as loudly as they must have when I picked up that value pack of keychain flashlights a couple of months ago, but still, I’d wager someone snorted up a sip of his Slurpee.
It's kind of the manufacturers to explain that I am the one who needs to pony up the $5.99. I tried angling it at the cashier, thinking she could be the YOU, but no luck.
When Aura woke up yesterday morning and heard of my purchase, she became intrigued. Since then, there has been much examination of the box, some frantic shaking of it, and several related queries. For one, how do these crackers crack? When they crack, is it loud, kind of loud, or so loud she might cry? What kind of toy is inside? A good toy or only a kind-of-good toy? Can she crack only one cracker, or can she maybe have two?
“You’ll just have to wait and see!” I crowed each time, having no idea myself what to expect from these Deluxe Crackers. She’s napping now, probably dreaming of their contents: luxuriant thumb-sized stuffed animals, silky confetti, a few tiny Deluxe Cracker-sized lollipops trimmed with diamonds. Me, I’m getting a little nervous. Having now actually read the back of the box, I fear that this New Year’s Eve will bring nothing but crushing disappointment. Here, let me show you what I mean:
Nugget of advice: Never trust something called a "novelty."
I’m not sure how I feel about getting a motto in my cracker. Sure, a nice little “Live each day to its fullest!” is harmless enough. But what if I crack my Deluxe Cracker and find myself faced with “It’s never pleasant to have the widest thighs in the room!” or “Self-induced stress leads to the highest blood pressure known to man!” The crackers were made in China. If workers over there use lead paint in children’s toys, you KNOW they won’t resist the chance to insult adults imbecilic enough to buy Deluxe Crackers.
See artful red circling.
Wait. It is me? A “surprise” bang? Is this description actually a stealthy disclaimer for the criminally stupid? Did someone, somewhere buy a box of Deluxe Crackers back in 2008, pull one open, then promptly fall over dead from the shock of the eponymous crack? Perhaps I am just missing the point here. Maybe this is no ordinary crack. Maybe this is a earth-shaking, ear-splitting BANG so loud that the downstairs bathroom’s light fixture, the one I loathe with every loathing molecule of my being, will shatter and need to be immediately replaced.
Apparently it is imperative that you take your crackers outside to the backyard, where you can then festively pull them open in front of your trusty boxwood shrub.
Huh. Is it possible that I have been giving the Deluxe Crackers too little credit? After all, when we open each one tonight, we won’t just be getting a prize. Oh no. We will be getting a Prize. And that’s just different.
Aura’s awake! Off to crack. Will report back, if not struck deaf.
