Shaking in Their Boots!

I have discovered something. I am death to can openers. I have yet to find a manual can opener that lasts for longer than the pretty finish on the handles.

As I was mourning my latest mechanical victim (actually it's only a slight injury, if I hold my tongue just right, the thing still works) I expressed my woe to my husband. Karl quickly pretended to be a can opener sitting on the shelf and begging me not to pick it up and put it in my cart, because it didn't want to die. "Please take the other guy. He's cheaper."

I laughed out loud when Karl started shaking as if in terror. If can openers could think/feel/speak, I'm sure they would have thoughts similar to what Karl was portraying.

So, why can't I find a can opener that will last? I promise that I don't throw the things around. While it's true that I've dropped them a few times, it was never intentional. Some may say I should get an electric can opener. For one thing, I really don't have the counter space in my new home. For another thing, I'd be scared that it would electrocute me some day to avoid being destroyed in my kitchen!

I suppose that if going through can openers left and right is my worst problem, I don't have much to worry about, but I still wonder why. Why am I death to can openers?

Right now, it's a bit of a perplexity that may keep me awake at night for the rest of the week. Soon I'll have something else to ponder, I'm sure. But when I think of the grand scheme of things, when I have the chance to ask God any question on my heart, I believe that can openers will suddenly pale in comparison to things such as, why did you love me enough to die in my place?