Do you know when the Olympics are taking place?
No, me neither…
It’s not like we can turn on the television, radio, internet, or even look at any magazine or newspaper without knowing what the latest event is and who won, who lost, who’s too fat, who’s too thin, who let everyone down, and who made a miracle happen.
So this Olympics overload got me to thinking: If I were in the Olympics, what would I excel in?
First of all, if I excelled in any sport that would be, in and of itself, a miracle.
Why?
Because I’m the worst athlete God ever put breath in.
It’s okay. I came to terms with it years ago.
I did, though, win the Good Sportsmanship trophy when I played softball in third grade. But that was because, while I may have been a, um, less-than-prolific player, I was just great at cheering on my teammates. Even when we lost the season to another team and ended up in second place .
And there was that time in the Field Day basketball shooting contest that garnered me a ribbon for First Place when I was 11 years old.
So I peaked in fifth grade. Again, though, that’s okay.
I began to think about what I would be good at now that could push me ahead of the pack, make me perform like a champion, and garner me a shiny gold medal that I would accept with grace as the ribbon was placed over my head.
And I came up with two.
The first? Misplacing important items right before I have to leave the house.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I’m sure I could place at least second or third in this one. But most likely I would win first place.
There have been so many times when I’m getting ready to walk out the door, and that’s the precise moment when I realize that I don’t have:
My keys.
The list of errands I’m running.
The coupons or gift certificates or sale ads I need.
But what would put me over the top is this sport is my ability to remember that I’ve forgotten one of these things (or a plethora of others—I’m an overachiever, and I know that I’ve misplaced or forgotten many more items I need) either just as I’m in the car or, even better, when I’ve gotten to the top of our driveway.
I would definitely make my city, state, and country proud in this because there’s no doubt in my mind I would place in this one.
What else would I be good at? This seems ironic—but as perplexed as I can be when I’m running around like a chicken with my head cut off before leaving the house, I am laser focused when it comes to remembering tiny details in my life or mine and my husband’s life that no one else remembers.
Yes, friends, as my husband says, if there were a Jeopardy for remembering all the small details that no one else remembers or cares about, I would be the all-time reigning champion!
For example, sometimes I can hear a simple song. Or a lyric. Or a band name. And the memories begin…
“Remember when we were first dating?” I’ll ask my husband. “And we were in the car after we left that restaurant where I didn’t like the shrimp and I was wearing that black and white dress that I ended up ruining shortly after because it said to ‘Dry Clean Only,’ and I was sure I could wash it out by hand, and we made a wrong turn and couldn’t figure out where we were and we freaked out, but then we turned onto the right street and saw that billboard with the woman in the red dress and then realized we left our doggie bags behind on the table near the front of the place?”
“Um,” my husband responds.
“Well, when that happened, this song was playing!”
I could also say that all in one breath too. That would get me extra points.
No doubt, I would ace the gold in this one.
Michele Wojciechowski, who is thinking about all the other things she’s Olympically skilled at doing, writes “Wojo’s World™” from Baltimore.