It Was Made for Giants, I Tell You

While I love our leftover wedding wine (and the fact that we have so much of it that I can just randomly pop open a bottle on a normal Thursday night), I am having the worst time getting it open. I have seriously corked every bottle I've tried to open (and I don't normally cork wine bottles). So tonight when Preston woke up from his nap (because he's a seventy year old man living in a twenty-five year old body. Just kidding. If I had been coaching soccer all day in eighty-five degree heat I'd also pass out in a hot minute), I mentioned this to him and said, "I think maybe I'm corking it because the countertop is too high and I can't push straight down on the cork--I go at it from an angle. I love our kitchen, but Preston, it was made for giants!" And Preston looked amusedly at me before giving Callie's belly a rub, looking her in the eye, and telling her, "And by giants, Callie, she means normal sized people."

Oh haha says the seventy year old man. Whatever. I maintain that it WAS made for giants. I can't reach any of the top shelves without standing on drawers or getting out a stool (which just takes soooo much effort) and the countertops really are too high. If I liked to cook wearing five inch heels, I'd be in good shape. But I don't like to do anything wearing five inch heels, so I suppose I'm out of luck.