Just wrapped up a week of housesitting for a friend while he took his family to Disney World. He thought I was doing him a favor by staying there, when the truth was that I got five nights alone in a Tempur-Pedic bed – not to mention the world’s largest bathtub, a Keurig that never stopped, all the caramel macchiato candy corn a girl could ask for, and two adorable kittens that purred and cuddled non-stop.
(This little guy is Thor. He gives the best snuggles. His brother, Loki, is jet black, full of mischief and nibbled my big toe around 3:30 a.m. Nevertheless, I’m pretty sure I came out the winner.)
I tried to tidy up the house before I left. Nothing big, mind you – just a quick sweep of the floors, fresh sheets on the bed, and a load of laundry. (‘Twas the least I could do in exchange for all the aforementioned luxuries.) And then I got this text:
“I’m not sure how, but you can actually fold a fitted sheet and make it look good. Is that some sort of sorcery? Are you a witch? Do you float?” he asked.
I snorted out a big laugh. Because I come from a woman who actually irons shit like fitted sheets. And pajamas. And the belt on her robe. I’m a complete worm in comparison.
But it reminded that we all do stuff that seem like no big deal to us (and perhaps those closest to us, as well), yet are extraordinary to other people.
Now, if you’re anything like me, you probably downplay those talents or habits or considerations as nothing special. But wouldn’t it be nicer if we could honor them, even just a tiny bit? Because, you guys, we’ve got some seriously unique and amazing things going on.
Like my friend Kristi, who’s run an Ironman triathlon. Or this guy Randy that I know, who does an amazing beat box. Or my friend Amy, who cleans streak-free windows, every time. Or my husband, who can pick up practically any instrument and play a recognizable and outstanding version of “On Top of Old Smoky.” (Even on a kazoo, although a kazoo by its very nature is not outstanding.)
So can we do that for just a second? Can we hit pause on the playback of all the reasons why we feel that we’re not quite good enough and instead celebrate some of the quirks and talents that make others hold us in high esteem?
Like the way, apparently, that I fold a fitted sheet. I’ll have you know I can also make award-winning chili (as voted by friends, some of whom I didn’t even have to bribe). I’m a cat whisperer. I do ninja dishes at friends’ parties before they can stop me. And I can herd a little girls’ kindergarten soccer team with minimal tears being shed.
How about you? What are YOUR talents, however ordinary or extraordinary?
