I just had a salt shaker explode. All over the counter, and the floor. Damnable contraption. It’s not really even a salt shaker. It’s a rock salt and peppercorn twisting smasher with two secret Rubixic supply compartments designed to keep Indiana Jones out.
I can imagine the conversation between the engineers and designers who birthed this thing:
DESIGNERS: The main thing is that it be pretty. It’s okay if it’s tricky.
ENGINEERS: You heard ‘em boys! They said make it pretty tricky!
Jolly well done then. You got me. Without a care in the world, I had set out to refill the peppercorn chamber, and your clever design tricked me into twisting something too hard, or maybe the wrong way, which caused the salt compartment to detonate. That was somewhat annoying, but I will say, your invention does look nice, even dismantled.
As I surveyed the spillage, I heard a cruel yet loving voice from the past. It was mom, saying what she said at special moments of klutz like this one:
“Why aren’t you doing that over the sink?”