Secure Packaging

Seven years ago, whilst heavily pregnant with Tinkerbell Mushroom, we visited the Millennium Dome. It was one of those mad things that you do when you are heavily pregnant, because you know that after the baby is born you may not feel like traipsing round the Capital with four children and a baby in tow, and might just not make the exhibition before it finishes at the end of the year.

Four children aged 9 and under, waddling mother and hubby approached the dream zone. A zone designed for ultimate peace. People were lying down on the slope thinking of nothing but complete "calm".

Until we walked in that is.

As was often the case in those days, everything was stored on the buggy, packed lunches, nappies, handbag, changes of clothes.... So when the gymnast, then aged 18 months climbed out of her seat, and the pushchair toppled, clattered and rolled down the slope, it was no surprise. Feeling hot and bothered I went to pick up the offending article and mouthed apologies to all that had been enjoying the calm before our entourage arrived.

"Uh oh" said the gymnast. "Pushchair fall over".

We exited from that - fast, and went to have a look at the Millennium Diamond which was very nice. So nice in fact that it disappeared from the dome shortly after that, because it was subject to a foiled robbery attempt. They whisked it away from prying eyes for safer storage.

Seven year's and two months later (Sunday morning last) I lie in bed in that sort of "aware that there are people up but ignoring them" sort of phase of sleep.

Can you open it Mum?

The plastic packaging was on my pillow. To be greeted first thing by a Barbie style doll is not quite the same as a cup of tea. I opened my eyes and looked at said doll. "Can you not do it?" I ask. "I've tried. I can't do it."

I sit up in bed and have a go at unwrapping.

Sealed plastic. Realise that we need scissors for this one. Reluctantly get up, go downstairs and find the scissors. Trim off the edge of the packaging and have a another go. Hubby who is already downstairs looks at it. "You need to take the cardboard backing off, so that you can undo the tags." "But there are no tags in the cardboard. Look." In hubby style he points out that there are two skins of cardboard and that if I remove the first skin, all will become clear. More scissors. More surgical removal.

Am then greeted by approximately 25 tied fastenings and many sealed plastic tags.

Hubby and I look at each other. (I notice, slightly smugly, that his somewhat slightly smug look has disappeared from his face.)

More scissors, Lots of untying of tags. Eventually....... after a full 10 minutes I finally reach the doll. After another five minutes, including a trip back to the bin due to having thrown away an essential part of the piece that had been hidden well inside another bit of packaging, I hand over the doll to Tinkerbell Mushroom.

Perhaps Mattel should patent that design, so that the next time De Beers have a bit of a special diamond on hand and under threat from a burglary attempt, they will buy themselves a bit more time to get the police there in time.