Opening the Giant Jar of Honey

I had already packed the school lunches, and I was working on making breakfast last Friday morning.  My little helper was already down in the kitchen watching me, while the middles were busy getting ready for school.  Actually, they were not busy getting ready for school, but they SHOULD have been busy getting ready for school, since they nearly ended up missing the bus, but that’s a whole different post: the chaos of the average school morning.  I was attempting to open a gigantic jar of honey.  Our honey comes from North Dakota, from an amazing beekeeper who trades his honey to my parents in return for keeping some of his hives on their canola fields.  At least I think it’s canola fields.  The hives used to be on the canola fields, and let me tell you, it is the most amazing honey in the universe.  I love it, and I don’t ordinarily even like honey straight out of a jar very much.  This honey is liquid gold, and I’m always blessed when my parents give me some.  Sometimes it comes in small jars.  Sometimes it comes in big jars.  This was a big jar.  BIG.  The circumference of the jar was large, and the lid was also large, and really sealed tightly. Because the lid was big, it was very hard to get a good grip to loosen it.  The jar was slipping around and I was struggling a lot.  I tried wet dish towels.  I tried neoprene nonslip oven mitts.  I tried my handy jar opener.  I was twisting with all my might, and northing was working.  I was feeling a little desperate to get ahold of that liquid gold.  I may have grunted and groaned a little because twisting so hard was hurting my hands.

Mr. Trouble on Feet:  What you doing, Mom?

Me:  I’m trying to open this jar of honey.

Mr. TOF:  Oh.  It hurt you?

Me:  Yes, yes, it does hurt my hands a lot.

Mr. TOF:  Oh.  You need bigger hands, Mama.  Like a bear.  That work better.