Life Can Be So Unfair....

It's that time again. You know, where my poor readers have to listen to me whine! I know you love it!!
O.K. picture this. Me standing in front of my hubby while he's trying to watch T.V., shouting, 'Do you realize if you die, I will never be able to eat pickles, mayonnaise, or horseradish again? As a matter of fact, I will never be able to drink again unless I just drink from the tap!'
What brought this on? I'm glad you asked. I am wondering why, as I get older, I cannot open anything by myself. It's driving me crazy! I'm like a little kid. Holly open this, hubby open that. I'm in McDonald's parking lot eating in the car, like a four year old trying to open the vinegar packet and it suddenly gives and hits the guy in the car beside me! When he looks up I point to hubby and roll my eyes. Meanwhile hubby is sitting there eating, minding his own business. That's what he gets for smugly opening his vinegar packet a full 10 minutes before me.
I'm the woman who's been caught rolling around the carpet with a pop bottle in between my knees, sweating and straining to open it. Finally, I give it up and decide to call for help. I call my daughter long distance and plead, 'If hubby dies, can I come live with you?' I thought I finally solved this problem by getting those little tetris packs of juice. They were made for kids, so I should be able to handle it. But no, I either lost the straws or couldn't get them open. What?!
Oh, and don't get me started on pill bottles. These child-proof caps are also intended to kill off the old and stupid. It's the governments way of weeding out the weak. And what's all this crap about lining up the arrows on the cap? My eyesight is so bad I can hardly see my leg, never mind lining up tiny arrows.
Gee, I hope hubby wakes up soon! I'm getting thirsty! If I get too desperate before he wakes up, he's going to find me wedged into my guinea pigs cage, drinking from his little water bottle...It wouldn't be the first time! Poor Lumpy hates it when I do that! Then the inevitable fight ensues when Lumpy calls me fat. That's nervy from a guy named lumpy!
I guess I'll go now and lick the grass for dew until hubby gets up. The neighbours hate when I do this, but too bad. I'm parched.