can we say p-m-s?

Yesterday Jason came home and found me sobbing in our bed. Rushing over, he tried to coax the problem out of me. The problem?

I couldn't open the can of oderless mineral spirits to work on our dinning room table.

He ran out to the garage and easily dislodged the cap. Problem solved? Nope. I just cried harder. I hate being a woman sometimes. Of course, now that the cap is off, I suppose I ought to go and work on the table...