Sisters and brothers of the universe, what you are about to read is a necessary short story. It’s partly mental health based with a whole lotta be true to yourself vibes sprinkled in.
I would like to go on record right off the bat with yet another confession.
What I’m about to share is quite humbling. Only those closest to me know this revealing deep secret that I have kept from most of the free world.
I DON’T DO MATH!
I never have!
Well, not really anyway…
I still have vivid semi haunting dreams about my algebra II teacher and classroom experience which speaks volumes. Coincidentally, I somehow managed to skirt all but one, number crunching math courses in four years at TCU. MIRACLE! And, it is with great honor I can share that I passed statistics 101 with a glaring C.
Since then, I moved on. I sprinted as far away from numbers as I could get.
Math scares me! Adding, subtracting, dividing and multiplying numbers are confusing and I would just rather not be bothered or embarrassed by it all. I avoid mathematical situations at all costs.
Maybe my strong aversion to math stems from the long-term chicken pox virus I had as a kid. I literally missed like a month of 1st grade and still have the facial scars to prove it. Then again, it could have been the pink eye that I contracted in the second grade. Remember pink eye…yeah well mine actually took the liberty to spread to the other eye and left me down and out of school for at least two weeks.
So…isn’t it highly possible that the accrued sick days causes me to miss formative lectures and worksheets on fundamental mathematical equations?
I’m comfortable with simple addition such as 2+2 and everything 5’s! But at the end of the day I let my fingers on a digital calculator do the heavy lifting like 13+ 8 or 27 – 9.
If my brain has to carry a one without pen and paper I’m simply doomed! Resorting to writing numbers in the air (as if it were a chalk board) to do long math makes me feel foolish and representative of the whole dumb blonde stigma.
Thankfully, along came Mr. Chicken Fry who in my eyes is a math WIZARD. Mr. Chicken Fry can do math in his mind so fast! His quick wit is second to his speedy long division and subtraction skills. He sure comes in handy if I’m bellied up to a cards table. I abhor the pressure to hit or stay in a game of twenty one while I’m fixated on finger counting under the table.
The digital age and my marriage defiantly improved my quality of life on multiple fronts.
Which leads me to today’s point.
Parent volunteer participation.
From the second we became parents of a pre-school toddler, the volunteer vultures ascended. The sign up pressure is on. PTO this, room mom that, lead soccer team lady this, club chair that, or volunteer committee member this and that! It starts early. There is much work to do and I concur that it takes a village…but everyone has their limits!
There are some parents who thrive in the math arena like the mom or dad who get their kicks from organizing a field day activity spreadsheet for fun! Then there is always the trusty accountant who steps in with their trusty treasury expertise. But NOT ALL volunteer capacities are created equal and that’s not my fault. Others may want to take a more back seat role because they don’t like people and or multiplication. That’s me!
So leave us be! Let us use our God-given talents else where.
If I have ever falsely misrepresented myself or given the impression I’m math magician/matician or numbers person, I genuinely apologize.
The teen queen plys high school varsity lacrosse and the parents are asked to partcipate. The list of volunteer spots are as follows:
Gate ticket sales, concession stand, field set up, field take down, announcer, score keeper and or fan police! I usually sign up for fan police! (One thing I can do is yell and get in peoples grill)
Why I don’t mind manual labor and would be a perfect fit for field set up or take down, my fitness gig doesn’t allow me enough time to get to the field. Field take down is usually reserved for the a JV mom because it’s the later game. SOOOOO…
I dodge concessions and ticket sales because I’m terrified of the possibility I would have to make change! No one wants a nervous nelly pushing bubble gum and nachos but unable to return proper change in a timely manner. I can’t even think about what it would feel like to be counting out dollars while the line at the gate grows with impatient patrons being held up by my slow math skills. I don’t want to feel crunchy!
I have come to grips with it…math is not my strong suit. So sue me! I’m sorry fellow lax mom’s if I have let you down. I’ll find another way. There must be something for the number challenged individuals of the world.
Let us decorate and organize and host team meals. Let me bring food, cup cakes and items to a game! I want to shine and show off maybe! Don’t force us to count cash and accept or subtract dollars. Give the decimal duty to the Albert Einstein’s of the math club.
Thank you for not bullying me into an hour of shame and anxiety.
For those of you judging me and laughing out loud…go on with your numbers self! I hope you count and divide fractions in your sleep!
I write in my sleep! I sing in my sleep. I’m a gosh darn people pleasing stand up comedy act in my sleep. I dissect sentences and read the dictionary for fun!
So there and so what!? We’re different!
I make exercise! I make music with my mouth. I make people laugh and I make love! I even make decent tasting food on occasion.
What I do not do is, MATH, which involves making change! Not even on a good day!
I do however pick up loose change and I average about 7-10 cents a week!
I’m Angi Abercrombie and I approve this message.
Love, laugh until you cry and always hug goodbye!
If you want to hear more confessions, come in for a group training session! Get your kicks at Abercrombie and FIT!
If you’re teetering on the edge of a committment to your health I’m ready to assist you! My making change record in the gym far out weights my math skills!
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