When you’re young and strong, they’re the mundane chores you never think about until you can no longer perform them. All of a sudden the little things you’ve always taken for granted are not only elusive but pritnear impossible to accomplish. What a difference 5 years makes.

Seems like I just got this 70 year old body out of the repair shop for a routine maintenance check after my warranty expired, when another part wears out, cracks or freezes up. While none have had a devastating affect on my life, it’s become exceedingly frustrating.

Since when did mash potatoes become hard? (They aren’t if you cook them long enough! Some starchy humor). We often have mashed potatoes on Tuesday’s when Ariana and Jovi come over for supper. I blaming the Hubs (that was easy). About two years ago he made fried shrimp for supper (yum). We’re old and lazy and rarely eat at the table anymore unless some serious cutting with a steak knife is involved. BTW, not eating at the table goes against everything I grew up with or we did as a family when our kids were little. We ate supper together at the kitchen or dining room table more often than not. Now John and I fill our plates, and watch a 42 minute program while we eat before I clean up the kitchen.

So getting back to our little shrimp fest. Hubs forgot to turn the burner off which housed the pan of oil. (Had we been seated at the table like civilized humans instead of in the next room, one of us certainly would have noticed or smelled hot oil-I hope). It was on low but the pan was scorched beyond the two days I was willing to try and clean it. Well that was my potato pan, so I had to move up to a bigger sized pan when I’m cooking. Unfortunately I can no longer lift the pan from the stove to the sink, (3 lousy feet) drain the water and place it on a hot pad for mashing. I now prop it precariously on the side of the sink, tip the lid a half inch (doing my best to avoid the free steam bath burn) to get rid of the water. Ten years ago I could lift a peck of cooked beets in an 8 quart pan filled with purple boiling water and drain them suckers. Now I can’t do 2 pounds of spuds. How did this happen?

When we were in Yuma 5 years ago I went to a church craft show with my sister-in-law and bought a small rectangular piece of gorilla shelf liner used in cupboards so tableware doesn’t slip and slide around. The outside edge is crocheted. My purpose was using it to open jars and plastic screw topped Diet Pepsi bottles. Kept conveniently on the counter and it’s worked until 2021. My hand no longer has the strength to twist this grippy cloth and if I do get the lid to budge, pain shoots through my hand, pulsating in the bottom of my thumb for several minutes. Dang it, this is making me crazy.

Hubs ordered a gadget with several sized openings which have tiny grippers which hugs whatever sized lid you’ve inserted. Instead of my fingers and thumb doing most of the work, my supper bottle of Diet Pepsi is unscrewed with more of a twist of my wrist causing no discomfort. So far it’s worked great.

My next annoying ‘why can’t I do this anymore’ is my stinking ‘smells wonderful’ shampoo. The 16 ounce plastic bottle has a lid where the top part opens when you ‘pop’ it up with your thumb. My thumb has decided its no longer going to participate in this daily exercise. There’s not a big enough gap between the lid and microscopic indentation where my thumb should easily be able to snap that sucker open. Most days I can’t get it open using both thumbs. Argh. Now I have to grab the wet washcloth, using 2 thumbs and push up on the lid flipper.

I know what you’re thinking. Just leave the exasperating, aggravating lid off the shampoo and pour a dot every morning, eliminating that minor irritant. However, you simply can not grasp how obsessive I am about my shampoo. That little quirk started 20 years ago when I got hooked on a John Frieda Shampoo for colored hair (by accident-the shampoo not the coloring part. I was still doing that on purpose). I forgot my overnight bag when I was driving 800 miles to visit my parents. Stopped at Walgreens during the trip and bought a set of travel sized hair care products. After using it once I wanted to grow my hair long just so it would be easier to smell. Sick, I know. A few years later Frieda discontinued the hair color treated type, forcing me to buy every bottle available on the black (after) market. Ok, it was e-Bay but every bottle was exorbitantly expensive. And I ran out of the shampoo (but not the conditioner-might have enough for my life expectancy) maybe 3 years ago. No problem because I stopped dyeing my hair about the same time.

Stumbled upon a great Bath and Body Works shampoo soon after only to realize they produced it occasionally. Our local store just started carrying the shampoo again so now I’m up to my eyeballs with bottles of the stuff which should suffice for my lifetime. Should I leave the bottle open and unprotected, my fear is when Hubs is showering he might fall prey to one of his sneezing fits (which last about 5 minutes with wind gusts between a Category 2 and 3). The tile wall is fairly safe but a less than pound plastic bottle of my favorite smelly shampoo on a dinky tiled, grouted shelf would be toast. You understand my concern now right? I should just look for a generic bottle that’s easier to open and fill it with my shampoo.

Here’s my last irksome task which has become combative. Everything gets placed in the sink before I do dishes (yes I still wash them by hand and never use my dishwasher. A waste of kitchen space in my tiny kitchen) that has a lid, like our double wall, insulated water glasses, Hubs loosens them or I end up carrying it into the family room, soap suds running down my arm and I’m about to fling that sucker across the street! The big picture is my overall health is excellent and I fully recognize and accept these loathsome changes as part of my aging process. I have much to be grateful for but that doesn’t mean I’m unwilling to ‘pitch a bitch’ about what’s happening in my life that’s driving me to distraction. Anyone younger than 60, you’ve been warned…