Help Wanted: Part-time. Applicant must enjoy word problems and be able to provide moral and technical support for a sleep-deprived mother with her
child’s5th Grade science project presentation board layout. The ability to bake delicious red velvet cupcakes considered a plus.
My daughter finished her science report and presentation board last night except for some holes that needed to be punched around the edges with a sharp object. Don’t ask why. If I tell you, you’ll have more facts with which to come up with a diagnosis that has been eluding my shrink for years. Or maybe my shrink actually has a diagnosis, but for some reason won’t tell me. (No, I’m not paranoid.) (WHAT?) Seriously, he knows exactly what’s wrong with me. He’s awesome. I just forget a lot of what he tells me. But I digress. (Yes, my tendency to forget and digress is part of the diagnosis. I already knew that part. Thank you.)
Back to the holes. I told Laura that I would punch the holes for her. Stupidly. Because those holes? NEEDED TO BE EVENLY PLACED AROUND THE EDGES. And I? Apparently don't know how to do things that are evenly even around the edges. And my husband with his undergraduate degree in Engineering was blah blah blah in a meeting. And Laura with her math brain the totality of which obviously came from her father's half of the DNA was blah blah blah at school. I didn’t want to wait. (WHAT?) (Add compulsive to the above-not-mentioned diagnosis, if you really must.)
I started off eyeballing the poster and putting 40 little Post-its where the holes were supposed to be punched. WHAT? In my 20s, 30s, and 40s, I would have started off by punching holes first.
So, I think we can agree that I have grown as a person.
Then after moving each Post-it 500 times, I started trying to measure and do Algebra and maybe Geometry and calling a banker friend (because bankers are supposed to be good at math, right?) and updating my Facebook status. And even with graph paper and a ruler and an actual pencil and starting in the middle and working my way around the sides and several Facebook status updates and comments later, I could not figure out how to put 40 holes around a 48” x 36” board in an evenly even manner. I kept trying though. It became a gosh-darned quest. (See compulsive above.)
So, I think we can agree that I have not grown as a person.
Then my friend Trish emailed me four words, in lowercase letters, which caused me to conclude that if she wasn’t taking it seriously enough to bother with the shift key, why should I? Trish’s email said: "eyeball it. screw measuring."
I went back to eyeballing and then proceeded to hole punching with a renewed spirit.
So, I think we can agree that I've grown as a person.
And while I was typing “40 holes around a 48” x 36” board” up there just above right here, this popped into my head without an invitation:
"Divide the number of holes by the total number of inches! Duh."
Yes, "duh" really did pop into my head, too. So, then . . .
40 holes divided by 168 inches means 4.2 inches between each hole.
I think. But I don't even care if that's wrong because I already punched the dang holes AND I didn't measure in between a single one of them. I'm not sure if that means that I have grown as a person or that I'm shrinking AND/OR that I'm really bad at math or really good at math, but as long as I don't care, then . . . I don't care.
Also, moving 40 Post-its 500 times equals 20,000 Post-it moves. I did that word problem in my head. Booyah.
Finally, I'm still looking for someone to make me some delicious red velvet cupcakes on a part-time basis. Interested applicants should submit a baking sample. STAT.