There are a lot of things I can do well.
There are also a lot things I can not do well.
The older I get the more I realize just how black and white that list of can and can't's really is.
I can teach ballet.
I can't dance ballet anywhere near the level at which I used to dance.
I can wash the clothes.
I can't remember to get said clothes out of the dryer.
I can eat an endless amount of chocolate.
I can't eat an endless amount of green beans.
I can cook.
I can't find the want (or need, really) to cook. Thanks for the sushi rolls, Harris Teeter.
I can mop the floors.
I can't get off Instagram in order to have the time to mop the floors.
And so on and so forth. You get the picture. I added a new can(not) to my list as of last weekend. Are you ready for it?
I can carve a pumpkin.
I can't carve it any better than a small child would carve it.
But wait, don't even look at Jack the Jack-O-Latern's baby face. Look behind Jackie at Rick's face. His focused, determined, don't-mess-with-me face. The face I see anytime he works on a puzzle. Or cooks a new recipe. Or, at my demands, tries to get the Wii to work.
That is the face of a dude who can do a whole heck of a lot of stuff. Like finish puzzles, and produce delicious dinner creations, and make a Wii work.
Oh yeah, and carve (etch? with a wand?) a mighty sweet lookin' pumpkin.
Pumpkins of the Lowcountry, I promise I'll try to do better next Halloween.
People of the Lowcountry, enjoy coming to our doorstep and, based off of the pumpkins, assuming a father and his young child live there.
I can (and did) choose a pretty rad husband.
I can't ever get on my husband's (or his pumpkin's) level.
p.s.- I also watched Hocus Pocus for the first time ever this past weekend (like, no way! Shut up! Jaws on the floor) and all I have to say is Ehhhhhhhhhh. All I know is that if 6 year old Emily had watched that PG movie I would have been asking a lot of questions about virgins...
Over and out.