As a kid, I was always impressed with the way my dad could eat an apple using a paring knife, slicing off each piece using the knife and his thumb. It was dangerous! It was edgy! He never cut himself! My dad is motherfucking Batman!
These days, Todd gets the cool points, but not for eating an apple with a paring knife. Hell, even I can do that (sorry dad, you are still Batman but not for the apple thing). No, Todd amazes me with how he can peel an orange. Each time, every time, that man can peel an orange in one fluid movement, and leave just one long, curling piece of rind. So it will can sit on the counter, still looking all round and for the most part, intact. I cannot accomplish this. I came close this morning, even getting excited.
Look at that big piece of peel on the left! That thing even has curvature! I came SO CLOSE. But then all the little chunks happened, and I became crestfallen, bitter, unfulfilled. Well, until I ate the orange, but I still wouldn't say I'm full.
It's weird because even before we had Alex, I'd look at him peeling his orange and think "I bet someday that is going to impress the hell out of our kids." And then I thought about how our kids would always be blown away by it, and then look at my lack of orange-peeling skill and just go "Well there's mom for you."
WHAT, I AM NOT INSECURE, WHY DO YOU ASK?
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