Simple Pleasures

Oh, so I see you think you already know what this post is about… simple pleasures. You think I’m going to wax eloquent about life in the country, my favorite fishin’ hole and snacking on Hint o Lime Tostitos. Well, that’s not what this is about. (Although I do love me some Tostitos.)

This post shall be subtitled: An Essay on the Subject of Bigotry.

I’m talking to you, Downy….. you, with your sweet-smelling product encased in a bigoted bottle. That’s right. (no pun intended) Try opening and pouring from that lovely bottle when you are left-handed. The cute little swirly-gigs at the top are designed for maximum gripage for the right-handed crowd. Oh, the discrimination.

And while I’m at it… here are a few other things.

Scissors. (Do you say scissor or scissors? A pair of scissors.)
Water fountains. (At least the one at Blue Sky High School.)
Target pistols. (But that’s a good thing because who needs another expensive, useless hobby?)
Computer mice.
Keyboard number pads.
Ergonomic grip toothbrushes. (Ergonomic grip anything, usually.)
Can openers.
Fancy dinnerware. (You should see me try to use the butterdish knife at my mother-in-law’s)
College writing desks
Oh, I thought of a bunch of other things driving in my car today but, of course, I don’t have one of those suction-cup note pad thingies to write on because they only work for the RIGHT-HANDED.

In my family pretty much everyone is left-handed so I didn’t discover this discrimination until I went to school. (When I also discovered that milk comes in cartons but that’s another story…..) Now I’m married to the enemy and I secretly laugh each and every time my Sweet Boy throws a perfect pitch to the dog with his left hand. (I can even admit he throws perfectly well with his right hand.) Do I wish on him the creativity & desirable baseball playing ability that is left-handedness? Or am I cursing him with my own (how do I golf-bowl-throw-a-frisbee?) awkwardness? As he approaches one year of age we still can’t tell which hand he prefers.

I swear a solemn oath to love and accept my son…. Straight, gay, left, right or am(bi)dexterous.