It’s 2024 in the Year of Our Lord and the aluminum foil roll still gets me every time. Do you know what I speak of? The barracuda-like teeth of the packaging when you reach into the cabinet to grab the roll of aluminum foil and you’re met with tiny, razor sharp teeth biting into your thumb or index finger?
Fact: Aluminum Foil Isn’t Sheet Metal
Aluminum foil doesn’t qualify as sheet metal. If it did, it would be the thinnest of sheet metal on our blue dot we call Earth. In my extensive research, I learned (through Reddit) aluminum foil is considered “foil” and not sheet metal because sheet metal is greater than .2mm in thickness, whereas aluminum foil is less than.
And because it’s not thick enough to be sheet metal, this means I can tear aluminum foil with my bare hands. If I want a clean line, I fold it over like a piece of paper, tear, and voila! a near-perfect cut.
Why do I need barracuda-like teeth built-in to the packaging to assist tearing off a sheet for me that in turn cuts the ever-loving shit out of my poor unsuspecting fingers?
Have you ever asked yourself this question?
I have.
I do every single time I need to grab a roll of aluminum foil.
Actually, I ask this question after I’ve already cut myself.
Because I always forget what’s lurking in the cabinets below until it’s too late.
Always.
Like today.
All I wanted was to cover my pot pies for the oven.
It was Daddy’s night to cook and we were out of pizza.
The individually-packaged pot pie directions called for aluminum foil.
No problem. I’ll just reach my hand into the dark cabinet next to the oven where the Ziploc bags are and…
Damn it! Did it again.
I hereby lobby Congress that we remove the jagged teeth from the aluminum roll packaging beginning in the next fiscal year.
You hear me Reynold’s?
Do you hear me?
It’s a health hazard.
Would the company behind Band-Aid stand in my way and block the legislation? How powerful are their lobbyists and what percentage of their revenue is generated from aluminum foil roll cuts?
Now, it’s possible someone reading this is shaking their head.
Be more mindful, you say.
Remember it cuts you.
It’s past 6 PM and these pot pies take fifty minutes to cook.
I don’t have time to be mindful. My stomach is eating itself and my kids are going to be home from soccer any minute and start rummaging through the pantry, eating up all the Goldfish and popping popcorn in the microwave if I’m not careful.
Then they won’t eat all their pot pie because they’ve spoiled their appetites.
You can’t waste Marie Callender’s delicious and easy-to-bake chicken pot pies.
I’m all out of time. My pot pies need to get in my pre-heated oven, STAT.
And because of this, I’m going to forget about the barracuda hiding in my lower cabinet.
So, if you’re shaking your head at me, you’re in the minority whoever you are.
I know this is not a me problem. This is a we problem. It’s a problem for all of us except for you maybe.
I was trying to think of one good reason why the metal teeth should stay.
But I can’t.
Because it’s so easy to tear that teeth are unnecessary. Swap out the teeth would a dull piece of metal.
Something.
Anything.
To have metal teeth built into the roll is demented.
A sick, twisted game.
If I need to get fancy with a cut and my hands and a proper fold aren’t good enough, I have this advanced piece of technology known as scissors. They don’t even need to be sharp. They can be as dull as a car ride with NPR on the radio.
As a matter of fact, you can use scissors that are kid-safe.
The type of scissors found on the shopping list for when your child starts kindergarten.
Because aluminum foil is not made of steel. It is not the Super Man of metal.
It can be torn with bare hands. It can be cut with a pair of kid-safe scissors.
We must stand up.
We must fight.
We must remain vigilant.
Lest we succumb to the barracuda in our kitchen cabinets.
The barracuda teeth of the built-in cutting mechanism that is the dreaded aluminum foil roll.
Let us bow our heads together as we listen to Heart’s 1977 classic rock hit “Barracuda” while we search high and low for the Band-Aids that are somewhere in the house.
Where the hell are the Band-Aids?
Does anyone know?
Of course not.
Because no one in any house in the continental United States knows where they keep their Band-Aids when they need one.
No one.
Tell me I’m wrong.
A story for another day, perhaps.
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