A Jarring Experience

A Jarring Experience

She told me to twist off the top. I tried. She told me to try again. I did. I tried with a towel, without a towel, and even under water. Nothing worked. I handed the jar over to my sister and with a flick of her wrist the jar was open. “How did you do that?!” I cried. “Just turn it,” she shrugged.

At the time, I thought she was trying to make it look easy. Then, after I moved away and still couldn’t open a jar, I learned that everyone makes it look easy. I was helpless and everyone else was accomplished. Determined to overcome my natural handicap, I tried any method that came my way.

I tapped the bottom of jars. Didn’t help.

I slammed the bottom of jars. Changed nothing.

I rolled jars around. I didn’t understand how that could help; it didn’t.

I allowed jars to sit under hot running water. Burned my hands a little, but the lid stayed stuck.

Nothing worked, and I gave up. It seemed that the only way I would ever open a jar on my own would be by handing it off to someone else.

Yet that refrain of “Just turn it,” played in my head every time I came across a jar. And I would try. Then I would fail, and go in search of someone more capable. Suddenly, one day, it happened. As I was wondering who  I’d be taking the jar to this time, I turned the lid and it came off the jar. With a soft pop the lid loosened and I had done it. I stated at the lid sitting in my hand and thought, “My sister was right.”

Which leaves me wondering what else she knows.

Advertisements

One thought on “A Jarring Experience

commentary

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s