Tag Archives: ten things I don’t know how to do

Ten Things I Don’t Know How To Do (and will never learn)


I just heard about a new link up at a blog called Mama Kat’s Losin’ It. Participants are offered a choice of five different writing prompts. I chose “Ten Things I Don’t Know How to Do.” Coming up with stuff I suck at?  Piece of cake. And, being the curious cat that I am, I decided to take a look at the non-accomplishments of some of the other writers for ideas. I expected to see a lot of stuff like Ride a Bike, Drive a Stick Shift and other fundamental life skills. Instead, I read that my fellow entrants couldn’t do things like Fly a Plane, Feed a Manatee or Conduct Analysis of Job Cost & Profitability. (sweating) What??? (more sweating) Holy crap. I don’t know how to do any of those things either.

Of course, since I’m telling time, remembering to feed myself and lacing my own shoes, I guess I’ll consider it a victory. Still, there’s a lot of basic stuff I never mastered. Here’s a sad but honest look at some of my (cough) personal deficiencies.

Ten Things I Don’t Know How To Do (and will never learn)

1. Dive. You will never teach me to leap toward anything leading with my skull. You people are insane.

2. French braid. Much to the chagrin of my young daughter, I can barely manage to give her a decent pony tail. At this point, she’s completely given up on me and branched out on her own. Braids, twists, buns … she’s perfected them all. “Poor mama,” she says, patting my head condescendingly.

3. Line dance. Not now, not ever. Not only do I not know the “moves” to these “dances,” I hate the very idea of them and was the bitchy bride who attempted to ban them from her wedding. Of course, my band and guests overruled me. And when Strokin‘ wafted across the ballroom, they thought they could peer pressureguilt … encourage me to join them on the dance floor. They did not.

4. Get the fitted sheet on my bed. I try. Lord, how I try. Corner by corner. The first one is simple. The second satisfying as it creates an edge. The third is a little harder but I can see the freshly laundered surface coming together. But the fourth? Not a chance. It’s just too tight for my weakling arms to get into position. And I’m left either (a) calling for reinforcements or (b) putting a pillow over it until someone else gets home.

5. Replace the bottle on a water cooler. Another shout out to my weak arms. But don’t make fun. Have you ever tried it? That sonovabitch is heavy. And I think my story can be best told by watching 30 Rock’s Liz Lemon in action. 

I wish I knew how to select only a portion of a YouTube video. Sadly, THAT IS YET ANOTHER THING I CAN’T DO.

So might I ask you to scroll to the 1:22 minute mark to see the clip?

6. Hit  a baseball. Same for tennis, softball, lacrosse. Nothing with hand-to-eye coordination, people. And I promise I’m not exaggerating. Remind me to tell you about the time my injury shut down the batting  cages someday.

7. Operate a DVR. I mean, I probably COULD if I actually OWNED one, said the proud owner of two VCRs.

8. Change the time on my bedside alarm clock. We have a total of eight clocks in the house and two in our vehicles that need to be adjusted whenever there is a power outage or time change. I’ve mastered all but one. And that one just happens to be the clock to which I spent the most time in close proximity. I just press a series of buttons in random but desperate succession until my mission is accomplished. The whole process usually takes about 5-7 minutes. And I always walk away from the job frustrated and stressed that  I might have accidentally set the alarm for some ungodly time in the middle of the night.

9. Cook rice. It seems easy enough. And I’ve driven friends crazy over the years with my questions. I follow the directions to the letter but, inevitably, I always wind up having either to add more water to the bottom-burning concoction or boil out the excessive liquid. Which then creates sticky rice. Perhaps I should seek work as a sushi chef.

10. Perform CPR/Heimlich maneuver. Sure, I attended parenting classes prior to giving birth to my first child. But that was more than a decade ago. And I was eight months pregnant. And the room was hot. And all I could think about was peanut butter. At this point, I think my best memory of the procedures is from a Jeffersons episode where George is forced to perform CPR on a clansman. It was a “very special” episode.

What about YOU?

Do you have any failures you want to share with the class?

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