We have a membership to one of those wholesale shopping clubs. We almost recoup the cost of the membership every year with by purchasing boxes filled with 1,000 packets of Splenda instead of buying 200 packets here and 200 there—of all things, right?

We typically keep our purchases limited to non-regular grocery items: the aforementioned Splenda, toilet paper, and gum. When we stopped by last weekend, we also picked up a gallon of milk because it would save us a separate trip to the grocery store—milk is milk, right? Right. But—!

But not all milk containers are created equally! The wholesale club sells those square milk gallons. See, because of the squareness, the milk can be packed, and thus shipped, more efficiently. Meanwhile, the consumer can save a few cents on milk.

Woo.

Whatever. We were there and needed milk, and that's all the thought that went into it.

I only use milk in the morning: first for my coffee, then for my cereal. The coffee preparation all happens in auto pilot because I don't like to let myself wake up all the way until I have aromatic coffee steam caressing my face (it really is the best way to wake up; you ought to try it). On Monday, for the first time ever, I had that silly milk container to work with.

As part of the square design, the spout of the container is recessed and wider than a normal spout. It's a little awkward figuring out how to pour small amounts into small containers.

You of course see where this is going: milk on the counter, milk on the floor, milk on my bare feet—no milk in my coffee mug. That put me in a rather foul mood, and I was still muttering crazy conspiracy theory rants and scrubbing away at my mess when Nick came into the kitchen. He looked at me like he was moments away from laughing, which just made me boil a bit hotter.

I raged, "They make you think you're saving money, but they don't tell you that you'll have to dump half the gallon just to get a splash in your glass!" Wisely, he kept his laugh to himself (though I could still see it in his eyes) and walked away without saying a word.

On Tuesday morning, I trudged downstairs on auto pilot, making my way to the coffeemaker. I opened the refrigerator and reached for the milk. I found this instead.

Oh, Nick.