An Appreciation of the Absurdities of Life is Imperative

What are we looking at here? A raggedy prescription bottle and a tiny wedding cake? Remnants from my recycle bin? Oh, would that we were.

This, my friends, is a company's well-meaning attempt to give good customer service, despite a total lack of competence. It's also, in a weird way, really funny.

A mail-order pet medication company, who shall remain nameless, is supposed to have a note on my dog's records to send his meds in non-childproof containers. (Remember those? You could just twist off the cap without getting red-faced trying to press hard and twist at the same time.)

It seems like a pretty simple request--and they actually succeeded, once.

This time, the pills came in the manufacturer's bottle, which apparently doesn't have a non-childproof model. It was sealed for all eternity from everyone--except clever children--with a large cap. (See this marvel of modern engineering in the picture, bottom right.) I called the company and asked them to send me a non-childproof container, or at least a cap. The Unbearably Cheery Customer Service Rep apologized and promised to send a container.

Today I received a Fed Ex package. It was a sturdy little box that contained about two feet of bubble wrap and a zip-lock bag with one little round cap in it. I was bemused. But not as much as I was when I put the cap and the bottle together. The cap was waay too small. (See picture, lower right. It's on top of the previously mentioned childproof cap.) In fact, it's so small that it could've only been sent by someone who'd never seen the bottle.

So, a Fed Ex trip, a sturdy little box, two feet of bubble wrap and a zip-lock bag--all to transport a teeny little plastic cap. The wrong size teeny little plastic cap. Incredulity short-circuited my brain synapses.

Then I did the only thing I could. I put my hand on my forehead and laughed until tears came to my eyes. Then I wiped my eyes and put my teeny little plastic cap in the cupboard with the bottle. It oughta be good for another laugh tomorrow morning.

Maybe then I'll have enough energy to call the Unbearably Cheery but clueless Customer Service Rep again.

Or not. I could just pour the pills into the old bottle and hand write the new expiration date on it. But I really don't want to try to explain that to TSA when my dog and I board an airplane in six weeks. They might not appreciate absurdity as well as I do.