There are some things I just can not do. Or, at least can not do well.
- Sing. Sure, I can physically sing a song, but it won’t be in any key you’ve ever heard, although your dog might join in.
- Dance. I have no rhythm. None. Even when I’ve had a couple grown up drinks and think I do? I do not.
- Back up in a car. Just ask my recycle bins, shrubbery, and neighborhood children.
- Cut things. I can not chop, slice, dice, or Julienne. I mean I can do it, but my knife skills rival that of a blind 2 year old. Once at my birthday dinner my MIL wanted me to cut the cake, which was a beautiful cheesecake she made from scratch. I made one erratic, sloppy slice that took considerable effort on my part (and I thought looked pretty good for me) and my MIL quickly gathered everything up and ran back to the kitchen to cut the cake herself.
- Stay still. I’m a fidgeter. I have tons of nervous energy. I just can’t be still. Waiting in a line quietly is full on TORTURE.
- Watch a movie without saying a word, laughing out loud, crying out loud, or screaming. I can’t help myself, I get into movies. Don’t believe me? Ask my sisters why they fight about who HAS to sit next to me, not who GETS to.