Just spent 20 minutes trying to open a jar of pickles. I’ve now accepted that the jar is a better guardian than my home security system. Considering hiring it to protect my snacks from late-night raids. The pickles inside are probably having a party, laughing at my weak human hands while I plot my next move with a hairdryer and sheer willpower. If you see me with a bandaged hand tomorrow, just know I lost the battle but not the war.