When I am an Old Woman . . .

I know the poem says that when I am an old woman "I shall go out in my slippers in the rain and pick the flowers in other people's gardens and learn to spit." Well, as to spitting, there's no way. I have tried and tried and I end up spitting on my shoe or car window or car doorframe. That alone negates going out in my slippers. Do Crocs count? But, there's something else I shall refuse to do. I will no longer buy anything in a package that I can't open in the store in which I bought it. No more CDs or DVDs for me. There is no way I can split the tiny film now, let alone when my eyesight loses it's current flexibility. So, whoever is peddling the latest movies, well your product is toast in my opinion. I can't get to the jewel case. I bought a pair of electric scissors to cut through the titanium plastic that covers some things. Is there some type of insurance that covers plastic cuts?

In fact, I'm not sure I'll be able to pursue anything. Gone will be the days of opening packages and applying cosmetic touches. Scrapbooking days will be at an end; ever try to open one of the adhesive packages? I'd have had better luck, but my fake fingernails precluded that. And speaking of the fingernails, I couldn't get that package open either. Next it will be milk cartons, and ice cream packages. Wonder if my dental work will stand up to ripping things open with my teeth. So, opening beer bottles with my teeth is a no go. And, by the way, I'm stockpiling regular light bulbs. I don't like the curly q ones that last barely six months, which I then have to worry about disposing. At least I can open those packages. But, I digress. And, isn't that a good thing? Next I won't be able to open emails.