I Peel Bananas Wrong

The internet recently brought to my attention that I peel bananas wrong. I watched the video intently, as some guy demonstrated the right way to do it (i.e. the way a monkey does it.) I made a mental note to try this method ASAP, as I’m not in the business of purposefully doing things wrong.

Side Note: Actually, sometimes I am. I really do know that when someone asks how I’m doing, I should say, “I’m doing well” … but I just can’t. I’m a, “Doing good!” kind of chick. So the other day, an unmistakably pretentious woman rang up my bill and asked how I was doing, and when I responded, “Doing good, how about you?” she made a big point of saying, “I’m doing very well, thank you.” I couldn’t stop myself from saying, “Good, good—glad you’re good. That’s good.” I could literally see how repelled she was—and it delighted me.

Anyway, before I had a chance to test run the new (right) way to peel a banana, the internet told me I also fold fitted sheets wrong.

You don’t say? So, good intentions, plus a half-hearted attempt at a 90-degree corner, followed by frustrated, hapless rolling isn’t right? I had no idea.

sheets

Just as I was mumbling to myself, “Martha Stewart doesn’t live here,” a new article popped up and informed me that I wash my hair wrong.

I do?! If it’s because I don’t wash, rinse, repeat, then I reject that. What a racket.

That’s not all. I breathe wrong. I eat chicken wings wrong. I shower wrong. I open Tic Tacs wrong. I eat pomegranates wrong. And just to add insult to injury, I pack my suitcase wrong and I boil eggs wrong.

Getting called out hurt. And since misery loves company, I think I need to call some of you out. I’ll try to be gentle, but sometimes the truth is a little painful. Let’s dive in.

You use Facebook wrong.

If you don’t see a striking distinction between Facebook and Google, then I’m talking to you.

Example #1:
Status Update: Hey Facebook Family! Do suppositories help nausea?

Google actually welcomes this inquiry.

Google actually welcomes this inquiry.

Example #3 (I didn’t label this one #2 because that’s too easy)
Status Update: Crazy Mom concern … Tanner’s deuce nuggets are green. #momprobs #help

Oh, look who has answers!

Oh, look who has answers!

Example #4:
What time do The Oscars start?

Wow, who knew Google was so all-knowing?

Wow, who knew Google was so all-knowing?

You use your imagination wrong.

You let your imagination run wild with the calamity that will “surely” ensue if you chase your dream job. You imagine failure and ridicule. You see all your naysayers patronize you with condescending head shakes. You rehearse an exit plan before you even take one step.

Yet.

There you are, walking out of a public restroom—that other disgusting humans have used—without washing your hands. I’m convinced that people who don’t wash their hands after using the restroom, simply are not using their imaginations properly.

The sooner you accept that human beings are disgusting, the better off you’ll be. If you think each person who used the public restroom before you, walked in with pristine hygiene, didn’t touch anything, hovered carefully, then made a crisp, clean exit, you are not using your imagination right. PEOPLE ARE GROSS. Know this. Accept this. Use this information to make yourself less gross.

You also give your imagination sole jurisdiction over your love life. You’re in love with someone but too scared to confess your feelings, because you imagine losing the friendship or being rejected. You go to all the terrible places in your mind where humiliation and abandonment live.

Yet.

There you are, angrily tailgating a car at 70 mph. Where is that over-active imagination now? Why isn’t it reminding you that a single wrong move by one of the other 20 drivers—also speeding down the freeway—could end it all?

You exercise wrong.

You might not realize it, but all those kettle bell and crossfit workouts you do in the gym aren’t properly preparing your body for the rigors of real life.

If you have ever said or heard one of these statements, then you already know that you’re as wrong as a hairless cat.

  • I made the mistake of bowling at my son’s birthday party and was then unable to feed myself the next day.
  • We picked weeds on Saturday and I feel like I should be in a full body cast.
  • I sanded and refinished a dresser this weekend and I’m sore in places I didn’t know existed.
  • My daughter wanted to practice pitching after school, so I played catcher and my lower body is so sore I can’t sit down without a cane.

You save time wrong.

If you believe in your heart of hearts that typing “ur” instead of “your” is buying you precious minutes, then you don’t understand clocks.

Also, to the married guys, replying to a thoughtfully written out text with “k” saves a second or two in the moment, but later costs you dearly when you’re sleeping on the couch.

If you take your clothes out of the dryer and throw them into a laundry basket or the “clean clothes pile” (because it takes too long to fold and put them away), then you have an unsound comprehension of time. Yes, it takes only three seconds to toss them in a basket, but then it takes a million frustrating minutes each morning to find what you’re looking for and make it presentable to wear. I know you can grasp simple cause and effect!

math

You ask for attention wrong.

I’ve talked about Vaguebooking before, but have yet to see a reduction in these blatant cries for attention on my Facebook newsfeed:

Status Update: What else could go wrong?
Status Update: I have to stay strong; it’s the only choice I’ve got.
Status Update: One more week!

Side Note: Sometimes I see “Unspoken prayer request, please” but I don’t consider that vaguebooking, because it’s relatively overt. People needing privacy for certain matters doesn’t negate their belief in the power of prayer. But I’ll be honest, until fairly recently, I was pretty inept at handling these vague prayer requests—that is, until I realized a prayer doesn’t have to be perfect to be blessed.

But before I honed my generic praying skills, I pretty much sounded like, “Dear Lord, please help Lacy to … no wait, please keep Lacy from … ugh, please show Lacy the … crap, please don’t let Lacy … dang it, please reveal to Lacy … OH, FOR THE LOVE OF YOU, PLEASE FREAKIN’ HELP LACY!”

I think most of us know that what happens in Vegas doesn’t really stay in Vegas. Probably the only place that slogan is true is here, “What happens online stays online.” So go on an attention-seeking voyage across the interwebs by telling the world everything you do and think (highlighted by how much you drank, how stupid your boss is, and who all was involved), but just remember that the internet is not a diary you can toss into a bonfire when you grow up, wise up and sober up.

OK, last Facebook thing (for today). Changing your profile pic back and forth between two pics is like telling the same joke again so you can re-hear the laughter. To the friends of the frequent-profile-pic-swapper-fishing-for-likes-with-an-undisguised-lure, please don’t take the bait. It’s up to us to end the attention-seeking cycle!

Side Note: I have such an aversion to attention seekers that I’ve crowned myself “Attention Seeker Destroyer.” I felt pretty good about my abilities until last year when one of my younger nephews taught me a lesson.

He’s extremely bright and a very early reader. I talked him into reading me a book, but when I curled up with him, he proceeded to change nearly every word in the precious story to some form of bodily function. And this is tough for me, because I don’t like or say the p-word, but allow me to give you an example:

“Dexter rode his poopy bike to the poop store so he could buy some poop for his poopy family. He pooped all the way there and had a wonderful poopy day making poop sandwiches to feed his poopy brother.”

After the third p-word, I realized what was going on, so I pretended to love his rendition, nodding in affirmation and encouraging him audibly. I figured I’d stop that little rascal in his tracks. Nope. He elevated his game by bringing in every other form of bodily grotesqueness known to man, and combined them in such a way that I was nauseous and had to call our reading session off a bit early.

I guess I aunt wrong.

What do you do wrong?

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27 thoughts on “I Peel Bananas Wrong

  1. LOL “I can’t math”. I’m pretty sure that the order in which I clean my floors is wrong. At what point in the process are you supposed to Swiffer? And I know the internet world would skewer me for how I measure ingredients for my baked goods because I’m not nearly as exact as I should be! Thanks to the preview into my future for book reading as I guarantee Sam will interject plenty of p-words:)

  2. Love the “I can’t math” poster. And I just did what I do wrong. I’ve stopped putting the subject in my sentences because I feel the shortened sentence is quicker. 😦

    • Leaving out subjects is a gateway to all kinds of criminal writing errors. Is that what you want for your life? Haha, I never mind when you do that, actually … so turn that frown upside down 🙂

  3. I don’t care we have. Love hate relationship because bananas for one I never spell it right and two they sit in the stomach which causes stomach fat. That’s what I know about Mr. B

  4. I’m going to need a t-shirt with the “I can’t math” gem on it, first of all. Second – ha ha! You should’ve seen me nodding my head in solidarity as I read this. Vaguebooking and attention seeking in general = I will fight this good fight with you! But wait, frustrated, hapless rolling ISN’T the right way to fold a fitted sheet??? I’m suspicious of this intel. The Internet MAY be lying to us here. I’ll Scully it out for us.

    • How about “I can’t math” in a mitten with a big star where Millers is? Does that sound like the perfect tee? Great, I’ll take one in super soft navy—thanks. And thanks for uniting with me on this … it’ll take a swarm of us. I’ll just keep haplessly rolling my fitted sheets to save time for our Attention Seeker Destroyer activities. Let me know what you Scully 😉

  5. oh yes!!! Vaguebooking and confusing Facebook with Google…both drive me crazy!! Since you hit the nail on the head regarding “vaguebooking” I can’t help but think of you every time and scroll down and see someone setting the bait…

    • I bet you saw one of the better FB/Google questions in the last 2 weeks bc I know this person is your friend, too. I read it aloud to my mom while we were on a mother-daughter weekend trip and she just stared at me and then said, “I’ve heard enough.” SNORT! People, do not ask Facebook what you can ask Google! STOP AND THINK! haha, oh I’m laughing 🙂

  6. I seriously love the way your mind works. If you ever did stand up comedy, you would probably be my favorite comedian. I love that you point out that “Google actually welcomes this inquiry.” Priceless. But then you went and said, “If you believe in your heart of hearts that typing “ur” instead of “your” is buying you precious minutes, then you don’t understand clocks.” And I did that laugh where it sounds like I’m wheezing for air.

    OH, AND I ALMOST FORGOT!!! The moment I started reading this, I knew I had to share this with you, because I know you will appreciate it: http://www.amazon.com/Hutzler-571-Banana-Slicer/dp/B0047E0EII/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1393990302&sr=8-1&keywords=banana+slicer Go down and read the comments. Trust me.

  7. You may have missed it on saving time. I have found that a well-placed “K” can not only get me out of an endless volley of textimonies but it often adds 20-30 minutes to a nap. Please don’t tell me that I nap wrong – that would be devastating.
    I’m going to go to facebook now to see if any of my “friends” have constipation. If so, I am going to ask all my other “friends” to send them recommendations for relief. Hey, what are “friends” for!
    C U L8R – K?
    I love your posts. You make your old daddy proud!

    • I still think you should register textimony® Endless volley? Who, us? Your daughters and your wife?! We’re the endless volleyers, huh? Just wait, a “K” will never again get you out!!! 😉 Lol, yep, c-ya and totes luv ya. (I crack us up)

  8. My own side note: My husband has a male cousin named Clifford. One day he was standing in front of my husband who was lying on the couch watching the television. So he told Clifford, “get your booty out of my way.” From that moment on, everything had booty in it. It wasn’t Kentucky Fried Chicken, oh heaven’s no. It was Kentucky Fried Booty. Jiffy Lube was either Booty Lube or Jiffy Booty.

    When you posted about your nephew using the P word while reading you a story, I did that laugh where you can hear the air, but you can’t hear the laugh. That was interspersed with snorts, and clapping my hands like a seal performing for a fish.

    I do many things incorrectly. I’m pretty sure I laugh wrong, in that I seem to laugh at things that tend to offend or disgust other people.

    This whole post made me laugh and smile, which was something I was in desperate need of today. Thanks for that. 🙂

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