While I know I should be more positive, today I started thinking of all the stupid things I can't do.

I can't throw a frisbee.

But no one will believe me -- just like when you tell people you don't like beer. And somehow, the idea that a person cannot throw a frisbee is such an aberrant notion that people are always convinced they will be the one to teach me how it's done. *sigh* So many friendships...and eyes...have been lost that way. They stand next to me, speaking s-l-o-w-l-y, adjusting my form, my fingers and my attitude against physics. It's always the same: someone walks away with a lumpy head after the frisbee spikes up and returns like an insane supersonic boomerang (not me, I know how to duck now).

I can't fry food

Popping. Shrieking. Smoke. Alarms. The chicken is clean as a whistle but the skillet is well breaded. Though, all in all, not such a bad talent to miss out on. Now if I could just forget how to eat chocolate...cheese doodles....3 lean cuisine pizzas in one sitting.

I can't operate a weedeater

Well, actually I don't know if I can use a weedeater. More to the point, I won't use a weedeater. All it would take is one well-timed spider to jump out of the brush and WACK, there goes my pedicure.

I can't understand words that are spelled outloud to me

Complete brain toot. If I had children I'd be absolutely screwed at Christmas time. My two year old would pick up that Daddy was going shopping for a b-i-k-e, while I'm still trying to figure out if my husband has just called me a b-i-t-c-h.

But when these inabilities get me down (and for dramas sake, I'll pretend they do), I just remember that God(ess) has blessed me with the ability to float on water like an empty igloo cooler. And all is right.