the rest of the story

To fully appreciate the significance of my last post,

we need to go back....

way back...

~

When I was young,

I thought I could pretty much do anything.

And not only do it, but do it well.

I could cook.

I was great with kids.

I was only a mediocre basketball player,

but what I lacked in ball-handling skills

I made up in speed and aggression,

so I was a pretty great asset defensively.

Which, in my humble opinion,

more than compensated for my measly 2 or 4 points a game.

I was thrifty.

I was smart.

I was amazing in my short working-girl career.

(it's been rumored I was pretty cute in my uniform, too)
I was a fairly good wife and a fun mom.
I could handle a needle and thread just fine.
I was no slouch with finances, either.

And then,

we bought a house.

A house that needed some remodeling done.

But I wasn't a bit worried about it

because

I

could do anything.

And goodness knows, Tyler could, too!

We bought drywall to replace some highly flammable something

that was currently on the walls in one of the rooms.

And I found out real quick

that I couldn't drive a nail 

to save my life!

I was shocked!

I was

mad

!

I had never before - to my recollection -

not

been able to do something I tried to do.

And so for fifteen years, 

I never attempted to hang drywall

again.

until last Friday.

And now you know

the 

rest 

of the story.