First off – keep yer hair on, this is not about politics and politicians or Al Beeb.
This is just a little list of my top pet hates which irritate the hell out of me in my ordinary day-to-day life.
Top of them is car seats.
They are oh-so-wonderfully ‘secure’, ‘cradling’ one so that one doesn’t rattle around like a pea (why that should happen when we’re all strapped in by our safety belts anyway is something I still don’t know). And of course they make even a common-or-garden family car ‘feel’ as if one’s in a high-powered sports car – that’s especially important when creeping around at 10 mph or standing still!
But try to get out of such a seat! It’s impossible, especially when one’s not a limber young model like those lovely examples of totty gracing the comments (I suppose, since nobody reads the comments, nobody sees them either?). Lifting one’s legs to indecent heights, then rolling over that bulge (which seem to get higher in every new model), then gaining one’s feet and lifting one’s bum from low inside over that high bulge to get out: it’s an atrocity!
Get rid of it!
Then there’s packaging.
Why is it that modern parcels are taped down as if they contain the most precious item, each parcel a temptation to long-fingered delivery people? I resent having to use Stanley knives, scissors, bread knives and assorted ironmongery hardware to bloody well open the thing in the first place! Each and every one has a different way of taping things down so one needs a new opening campaign strategy for each one.
And then there’s the inside … full of eco-friendly crushed brown paper, yards and yards of it. I suppose it’s not really ‘waste’ when it’s “eco-friendly”. Or bubble wrap – yards and yards of it. Try getting into that lot!
And then the item itself – usually tiny when put in relation to the parcel and the inside stuffings. That item is sealed, bomb-proof, ready to be shot into space, needing more wielding of shears, knives, scissors, pliers … and curses.
And then there’s what used to be called ‘Scotch Tape’. Nowadays it’s impossible to peel off or cut through. You can’t even tear it off the roll any longer.
What is wrong with a small carton, brown paper and string for small items? What’s wrong with brown paper tape, glue on one side?
What is wrong with wrapping an item just in (nice) paper, tied with string?
And then there’s pills and their containers … Because some mothers can’t be bothered to look after their rugrats and keep them out of the bathroom and the medicine cupboard, we all now need to do our weight-bearing exercises by trying to open pill bottles: push-press-twist-pull: the order is always wrong, and if one can’t ask a passing strapping young body (male or female, we’re not into gender discrimination) to please open the thing, one is lost – unless one takes the hammer or even mallet to said bottle and then picks up the pills.
If one has managed to get the top off then there’s the seal, because → belt ‘n braces, innit. Just peel it off? Hah! Usually this is another job for the screwdriver approach. Some, I grudgingly concede, have a little piece of foil one can pull up, to use as lever, but generally it’s poke-rip-and-hope-for-the-best. As the pills then usually land on the floor, the smash-the-bottle with a hammer approach still seems the best one.
Should pills be ‘sealed’ hygienically in some plastic foil, only those with thumbs trained by decades of texting have a hope to get them out. So – another job for shears then …
And finally: wheelie bins! Gawd. It’s not just the number of them, it’s their bloody size and that they need to be on the pavements in front of the house at the appointed time. Too early: you’re fined. Take them back ‘home’ too late: you’re fined. Manhandling them requires a lot of upper-body-strength (it’s my bi-weekly weight-bearing exercise …) and is very noisy. When there’s a storm, they get blown around and become human- and dog-killing missiles.
What’s wrong with black (and green and brown and white) plastic sacks? We used to have lovely bio-degradable white sacks for garden waste. No longer …
Oh – it was a EU directive, wasn’t it … and those nasty rats and urban foxes and seagulls getting into the bags. Funny how that didn’t happen when the bags were nice and strong … and funny how rats, seagulls and of course the dear little foxes cannot be killed – that would be inhumane.
So there you have my pet hates. I call them ‘pet’ hates because I cherish them: a good dose of outrage keeps my blood pressure healthy without needing to see the GP and getting more pills …
© Colliemum 2018