How ‘Hello Kitty’ Pushed Me Over the Edge (and other problems with Santa)

First of all, Kitty, f$%k you. (Thank you to a friend of mine from Newfoundland who swears this is the most effective way to begin a serious conversation).
Secondly, you have to wonder if the person/people responsible for this container of Hello Kitty hot chocolate is the same person/people in charge of Design-and-Frustration for The Imaginarium Motorized Marble Race.

Here is my open letter to the Hello Kitty people:

Dear Hello Kitty people,

I live in Montreal, Canada, my city is closer to the North Pole than it is to the equator. To put things in perspective, a phone call to Santa Claus would cost me less than a phone call to a resort in São Paulo, Brazil. But, we’ll get back to Santa in a second.
Januaries in Montreal are brutal; only slightly less brutal than Februaries in Montreal. My two little children, my wife, and I try to make the best of it. I would go so far as to say we appreciate the change of seasons. We make the most of our cold, dark winters: skating, skiing, snow-shoeing, movies under blankets after sunset (which is 4:30 in the afternoon!), and warm cups of hot chocolate guiding marshmallows down our throats like small gondolas of hot pleasure. In fact, I would again go so far as to say sharing mugs of hot chocolate as a family has become tradition among the four of us. In fact, it is such a staple, Santa gave our kids canisters of  Hello Kitty hot chocolate as stocking-stuffers – a great man, that Santa.

This canister brought us many moments of joy: it was kept on a shelf in the pantry specifically chosen because it was within reach of our little 4-year-old girl (who soooo loves her Hello Kitty hot chocolate). She would be proud to show us how she could, by herself, retrieve the snack from the cupboard; like a little puppy retriever. She would then drag a dining room chair into the kitchen, onto which she would hoist herself, putting her within stirring distance of the liquid treat.
You get the idea.

Three days ago, we were once again making the delicious elixir when I began to scrape the bottom of the canister (yes, it was that good – we were already down to the dregs, and Santa had only brought her the gift on December 25th…imagine), and…..poof! The spoon penetrated the bottom of the container, releasing the remaining chocolate dust all over my kitchen counter.
Wow, I thought, I must be really strong to be break through metal with only a spoon and slight pressure my hand. For a moment I was impressed - maybe even a tad frightened – at my own scooping prowess.
The more closely I looked at this cute, pink receptacle, the more I was aware this collapse was not a result of my uncontrolled might, but rather by design. Yes, this casing had two openings. But, these two opening aren't like the two openings into my house – one in front and one on the side – no, these openings are at each end of my Hello Kitty hot chocolate: one on the top, and one on the bottom.
What's funny – or ingenious, depending on your perspective – about these openings is that whether you hold the box with the Kitty upside down or right side up, the openings are still on the top and the bottom…fascinating!
While the average consumer might not notice these opening upon purchase (especially when you don't purchase them, but rather receive them as a surprise from Santa), I suppose their discovery in inevitable, since your spoon will inevitably apply pressure to the opposite end of the canister as you scrape away at the last delicious grains of this treat.

Hellooooo, Kitty!!!

However, we must be mature and put aside, for now, discussions of messy counters and design flaws; there is a bigger issue at hand.
When, in the heat of the moment, I expressed my 'dissatisfaction' with the collapsing container, my daughter (you remember her from earlier in my story? She's the cute 4-year-old? Who loves her Hello Kitty hot chocolate?) asked what the matter was, I said:
"Well, sweetie, whoever built this little box didn't do a very good job. See? There's a hole in the bottom."
"But, Daddy," she exclaimed "We know who built it. Santa did. Remember? It was in our stocking for Christmas. Why would Santa build something with a hole in the bottom?"
"Well, sweetie…" I began  (I love this 'think-fast' conversations, they keep me young) "Santa has sooo many elves to look after, one of them must have made a mistake when Santa wasn't watching."

With that, she got a little spoon from the drawer, hopped back on her chair, and began scooping small heaps of Hello Kitty hot chocolate from the kitchen counter into her little mug. Gotta love kids – unflappable.

So, Hello Kitty, I'll end this feedback with two small points:
Firstly, I realize it's only hot chocolate, and will swiftly be forgotten. Within the universal picture of priorities, we still have our health, our happiness, and our high-speed internet with which we can blog about events such as these. I may even look back and laugh when I prepare hot chocolate with my grandchildren, one day.
But, for now…my second point: F&?% you.

Sincerely,

FatherDaddy.