Small Things that I Can Never Get Right

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

1 Whistle real loud. I’ve tried everything. Fingers together, fingers apart, even that stupid bottle cap trick from the Snippets TV mini-shorts. It always just goes,
“Ffffppphhhhfffoooowwwwwmmmpppttthhhhh.” About as loud as a librarian’s hush.

2 Get the Slinky to walk downstairs. I’ve tried front stairs, back stairs, friends’ stairs, public stairs, nada. It just tumbles over once, then sits there. I’ve tried a more aggressive launch, but then it just falls downstairs. I don’t know how many Slinkies I went through just trying to do this stupid trick.

3 Cat’s Cradle. The third pattern always get tangled. Always.

Any suggestions? Any of your own secret shames?

2

Blow a bubble gum bubble. I’ve gotten quite good at spitting my gum across the room, though.

3

I can’t whistle at all. :frowning:

4

I can’t whistle either. I am sad about this.

5

I can whistle, but not well. Sucks, because my brother can whistle Dixie (as it were) all the day long. He’s good at it. Not me.

I can’t blow raspberries. You know, the THHHPBBPTPT noise? Can’t do it. It’s endlessly amusing to my husband when I try, though. And oh, how I’ve tried. Alas.

6

Another non-whistler. There seem to be more of us than I thought.

I dream of the far-off, glorious day when I arrive at work and remember I need my building access card from the glove box as I get out of the car instead of 10 steps away. We’ve been in this building for almost two years.

7

I can’t roll my Rs, not even close. I sometimes wonder what would have become of me if I had been born in Spain…

8

You would have learned in childhood, when you were still forming language, and you’d be fine.

9

I can’t yo-yo, can’t keep a Hula Hoop up for more than about 3/4 of a revolution, and I can’t ride a bike with no hands.

10

Another non-whistler, another non-rolled R-er*.

And I can’t paint my nails.
*hint: you can sorta fake it by putting a quick g sound in front of the ‘rr’. Thank you 6th grade Spanish teacher!

11

Can’t touch my toes (keeping my knees locked). Never ever could. Even as a skinny kid.
It was one of the requirements to be in the “A” group in junior high gym class.
I could do all the push-ups, pull-ups, sit-ups and run the track quick enough but was never able to complete that last feat.

12

I can’t play video games. I couldn’t play PacMan or Asteroids or any of the original ones so I haven’t even seen any of the stuff they have out today.

I can’t stop using the stopper on in-line skates. I have to either turn into a stop or, more likely, jump onto the grass.

13

I can’t ride a bike with no hands.

I can’t whistle with my fingers in my mouth - I managed it once but got so excited I forgot how I did it.

I can’t use the stopper on my inlines.
I can’t play video games that requires a map feature, although I can navigate an actual map.

and

I can’t cartwheel. I tried, and tried but never could. Or a backwards somesault

14

That may or may not be the case. My wife’s first language is Spanish - she grew up in a house that didn’t speak English - and she’s never been able to roll her R’s. She kind of fakes it, and because she’s speaking fast and is well practiced in it I can’t really tell much of a difference, but Spanish speakers, including herself, all agree that she is not really rolling her R’s.

I can’t do the loud whistling either; I really wish I could.

15

I’m incapable of washing the dishes, or really operating any standard sink mechanism, without getting water all over the floor.

16

I absolutely CANNOT remember how to spell [del] “privledge”[/del] [del]“priviledge”[/del] “privilege.”

I can, however, whistle really loud with my two pinky fingers. It was the only useful thing I learned in my high school chemistry class.

17

I have this problem. It’s also one of the chores I usually don’t mind too much, but am rarely permitted to do.

I too can’t whistle at all. Not with tongue, not with lips, not with fingers.

18

I can only snap while using my right middle finger and right thumb. It took me until my sophomore or junior year of college to figure it out, and I cannot snap with any other fingers on my right hand or at all with my left hand.

I can whistle quite well with pursed lips, but I cannot do the fingers-in-mouth whistle.

I cannot bike with one hand, no hands, or standing up. (I didn’t learn how to ride a bike at all until I was 11.)

The last time I tried ice skating, I fell over backwards and sprained both wrists.

Those two might be related–“poor whistling + can’t raspberry” sounds like a breath support problem to me.

19

That’s how I whistle, too. You’re the only other person I’ve ever encountered who can snap with one hand but not the other. I can snap with my left but not my right.

20

My secret shame: I’ve never been able to sprout an avocado pit by balancing it over a little glass of water with toothpicks.

Never.

Small children all across America do this every day as a simple science project, I’m told.

Not me.

I keep the water clean, I balance it at juuuuust the right height. Nothing. Nada. Zip. How many times have I tried? I dunno … but I eat a lot of avocados, so I had plenty of raw material.
I do have two small avocado plants growing in pots right now, though, and I’m possessive as all hell about them. Og forbid they should dry up in the summer or freeze next winter - I might cry.

I got the 1st one when I cut open an avocado one night and discovered to my considerable surprise that even though the fruit’s flesh was not at all overripe, the pit had sprouted and sent a long, snaking root through the flesh. I was so excited and happy at having an already-sprouted pit, it was ridiculous. I’ve never been happier to find my produce has gone to seed. :slight_smile:

The 2nd one came out of my compost pile. I was so disgusted with my failures with the toothpick routine I began chucking all my avocado pits as hard as I could across the yard, and most of them got flung right into the compost pile, if my aim was good. A while later, Mama Nature took care of things. I carefully dug it out of the compost heap and potted it.

I call them my “cheater” avocados, and although I’m thrilled to finally have something I thought I’d never achieve - a free houseplant, ferchrissakes, and yes, my dreams are small - their very presence reminds me of my constant failures.