Not having found any new facial flaws in the last 48 hours, I’m forced to find something else to gripe about. Nobody ever told me that, in my sixties, I would start to have difficulty clasping bracelets, opening jars, and tearing the protective paper seal off a carton of hummus. I'm fortunate to have a husband who, a few years my junior, can still do these things--most of the time.
I'm also unlucky enough to have reached this stage of life at the same time that manufacturers are making sure no product can be tampered with (even by its legal owner). It's some solace, though, that even twenty-somethings have trouble with the hard plastic clamshell that can't be opened without a butcher knife, if that.