I burst into flames on the beach, so I'm really good at applying self-tanner. Not to look tanned, you understand. Somewhat normal is my goal.
|Self-tanner FAIL, poor dear.|
I can create a dinner for my husband from the last of the Panko breadcrumbs, that one last chicken breast, and mayo. And rosemary; for crap's sake, don't forget the rosemary!
If a surprise guest will arrive in 30 minutes, I can create the illusion of cleanliness. Just don't open the door of the closet or the Dora Tent.
|Love this thing. You can shovel a lot of stuff in here.|
I can extricate myself from any conversation on politics.
I can spend 200 $ on groceries and realize as I pull into the driveway that I haven't actually bought anything to eat.
I can sit through the ninetieth showing of "Good Luck Charlie, It's Christmas!" and enjoy it.
I can also extricate myself from any volleyball pick up game ever.
Here are some things that I can't do:
I can't find my husband, The Great Disappearing Act, when breakfast is ready.
I can't make my kid throw away any of her stuffed animals. (Sweetie, one more round of gift giving and Daddy and I will have to sleep in the garage, ok?)
Nor can I organize my desk. My friend can move two things and all of a sudden everything is in order, but I just don't have that gene.
I cannot resist any dish made with black olives. Ditto mushrooms.
|Oh yeah. Bring it on.|
Breakfast is ready (Jersey blueberries, fresh cantaloupe, and waffles) and I have to go and shout in vain for my husband.
Please, in the interim, share some talents and challenges of your own!