Here’s something funny about living at a high altitude: groceries packed at sea level expand here. For example, bags of chips are like pillows, full of air almost to the point of bursting. Every once in a while, on the drive up the mountain to 10,367 feet, a container will make a popping sound from the grocery bags in the back seat or the trunk and release all that pressure. Usually, stuff stays sealed.
Even though I’ve been living up here for a couple of years now, I often still open the yogurt toward my face, and the force of the unsealing causes, at best, a light sneeze of active cultures to the general area of my face, and at worst, a significant fraction of the yogurt blasts into my eye at roughly the speed of sound.
Why I never learn to turn the yogurt cup away from my face while I open it remains a mystery to me.