My Kingdom for a Washer

I love honey. I love it in tea, love to douse my cornbread so that it's soaking with honey. What I don't love, is honey dripping down the sides of the plastic bottle in the cupboard. Reaching in to grab my beloved honey, my fingers get stuck to the sides of the bottle. (I have to say I hate to get things on my fingers. I hate it when I'm cutting cilantro and those little leaves stick to my fingers. I hate to peel an orange and have orange rind and juice all over my fingers. My feelings are the same about honey on my fingers. I'm not a bear.) I wrestle with the bottle as it has stuck to the bottom of the cupboard. It eventually peels off with a sickly sweet semi-dried honey sound. I swear, I pour it with the utmost care. I am not one of those careless honey pourers, those people who pour with abandon and let a huge string of honey run down the side of the bottle. No, I pour most gingerly, let the little strand break before tipping the bottle back up. I even lick the top (a warning for anyone visiting who wants to use my honey). So it has to be this, the lid to the honey needs a washer. Apparently after the honey has been poured, it gets into the threads of the lid and eventually runs down the sides of the bottle. So this is a cry to you, honey packagers of the world. Please put a washer in the lid of my honey. I would be most grateful. Now I must go wash my fingers.