Oh dear God.
Everything I can do, is of a mediocre standard.
I bake - no-one dies after eating it, but that's not a talent.
I sew - if it's a rip bigger than my fist, we're stuffed.
I dance - it resembles a frog in a blender.
I sing - BADLY.
I do hand farts - but they aren't nearly as awesome as my husband's and you need to have
supersonic hearing just to be able to tell if I made a noise. Unless my hands are wet, then I am a little hand fart Goddess... or not!?
The only thing I would say I am good at, and have always been good at, is writing. I have a gift. I am not being up myself, my Year 12 English teacher told me I had a gift for writing. I believed him so, I even added it to my resume.! True story.
I am wicked awesome when it comes to dealing with poop, pee and spew without ending up face down in the loo, but that's not really a talent when you are a Mum, it's more of an "in the job description" thing, and having said that, I can only handle my own children's poop, pee and spew. If some old drunk guy wandered up to me and spewed on me, I'd spew back, then punch his filthy old face in.
I just got incredibly angry at an old man getting drunk and spewing on me, even though said old man was a figment of my imagination. See what I mean, I have a GIFT.! So much so, I made myself feel really angry about an imaginary person.
I don't even know where this blog is going.
I have a talent.
I write and stuff.
Without a means to get my thoughts in print, I am officially useless.
Thanks for making me feel lousy about myself 30 Day Challenge.!