I can do that! I think.....

I have come to the realization that I cannot do anything really well. Now before my daughter, sons and husband think I am furiously addressing invites to my pity party -STOP- I am not. I used to feel sad, bad, mad and terrifically slighted that I had no talents of which to speak; but now I free know that nothing is expected of me! Let me give a few examples...a few Sundays ago, after baking, boiling, stirring, whipping, chopping, seasoning, slicing, dicing, disengaging the blaring fire alarm, I called the starving family to sit down to the Sunday family dinner. All was quiet as we began to pray...and my son pleaded quite earnestly with the good Lord that the food we were about to partake would taste at best "okay." Obviously the cuisine did not because after a few uncomfortable exchanged glances my eldest son said "mom, PLEASE let us cook the Sabbath meal; (okay he did not say Sabbath) we need to help, we want to help, you are overworked, tired, stressed from the past week's activities!" I asked him if the food was really that bad to which he responded, without missing a beat...YES!" Please a little less enthusiastically next time. Second example. My handy man husband (no really he is a handyman, I need to hire him out) was redoing our 1960's living room, which in today's terms is called a great room. How hard could it be to paint the moldings that would wrap around the ceiling? Straight brushstrokes down a straight piece of wood which in today’s market is actually plastic. Anyway I was willing to proceed but hubby kept sending me on drink runs, food runs, mail runs. Then suddenly every child needed help with their math (another example of something I do not do well.) When I instructed them to ask dad for help with math while I painted they all suspiciously and all too eagerly agreed that I was the math mind they needed. When finally all game plans had been exhausted David had to let me help. Brush in hand I dipped the tool in white gloss paint and down the planks I flew. This was Christmas for me! I was actually beautifying our home, leaving my mark for generations to come or until white molding became outdated! I went to bed with great satisfaction and even though my husband had hovered over me while painting, I felt, no I knew, I had done wonders. About 5:00 the next morning I was awakened by a noise in the soon to be remodeled space. Seeing that David was gone I was concerned that he had singly gone to check if we were being invaded by hoodlums. I wish we had burglars because the sight that greeted me was like a dagger to my heart. There was my beloved REPAINTING EVERY PIECE OF MOLDING I HAD PAINSTAKINGLY PAINTED THE NIGHT BEFORE! Excuses were made, apologies thrown my way but it was too late. My skills had never never been desired; the drink, food, and mail runs were bogus, I REALLY DID NOT HELP WITH THE CHILDREN'S MATH. I quickly woke them all up and had them re-do their assignments. I needed something to eat but alas all that was in the fridge was dinner that I had cooked the night before. Surprisingly ( not) there was A LOT left over. And lastly while singing my heart out one day in women's choir I noticed my friend giggling. When I asked her what was so funny as we prepared to practice the song once more, she replied "I did not realize your singing was so bad." With friends like that who needs enemies. So mediocre is my middle name. I feel free of the pressure of trying to be the best knowing that excellence is way overrated and I have finally found something I can succeed at!