My infant son recently received a LeapFrog LeapStart Learning Tablet from his grandparents. This was not surprising. Grandparent’s desire to please their grandchildren usually manifests itself in the purchase of toys generally louder and more garish than a Christina Aguilera makeup application.

While I went about opening the box, I noticed the table was pre-assembled save the fact it was missing its legs. Digging further within the packaging, but not much further mind you, I found another box I assumed contained the aforementioned plastic appendages. As I pulled the interior box and subsequently the individual legs out, my wife noticed the box had some printing on the side. The cardboard proclaimed in ridiculously large letters, “Legs Inside.”

After my subsequent bad joke, “But my legs won’t fit in there,” it got us to wonder, “Who is this message for?” You know they have the printing there for a reason. There must have been many, many phone calls to warrant such a substantial inscription.

Who among us then, when presented with the dilemma of “Hey, where are the legs?” could not:

  • Judge there was another box inside. (Which, I might add, takes up about roughly half of the initial box space.)
  • Notice that there was still some weight to the box (“Hmmm, that’s odd. It’s almost like there’s something else in there! I think I’ll call the support number first though, just in case.”)
  • Pull the interior box out and decide not to look inside without further prodding to do so. (“Better not, could be dangerous!”)

Giving people too much credit is a phrase pundits like to toss around in situations like this. I never liked pundits, they generally have poor hygiene. Unlike them, I want to believe in the intelligence of the average consumer, but the seemingly necessary inclusion of “Legs Inside” does leave me with doubts. Hopefully, my son will benefit from LeapFrog’s compelling, multi-layered content” and become intuitive enough as an adult to look a little further into the box for the legs.