I was wrong.

Last week  I was smack in the middle of making waffles for dinner when my wheat grinder stopped.  

It just froze up on me right in the middle of grinding a fresh batch of whole wheat.  I turned the machine off only to then turn it back on again because that’s the best way I know how to fix things.

The counselor came into the kitchen and sensing I was frustrated, asked how he could help.

Now, on a scale of 1 to 10 of me being able to fix things (10 being I’m great, 1 being I’m lousy), I’m around a 3, alright a 2.  I did un-jam the garbage disposal once and when I plugged in the vacuum and all the lights in the house went out, I figured out how to turn the circuit breaker off and back on.

Now, let’s look at the counselor.  On a scale of 1 to 10 of him being able to fix things, well, I’d put him at a . . .

WAIT!

I can’t do this in a public forum.

The counselor is so great at so many things, like loving me and being a great daddy to our kids and, well, bringing home the bacon, so who cares if on a scale of 1 to 10 he’s not very high up on the ladder of being able to fix things.

So when my wheat grinder started sounding like a car that just wouldn’t turn over and when it started to smell like something was burning, I turned to the counselor and said “Honey, I don’t need your help because you can’t fix it anyway.”

This is where I should mention that I can be mean while I'm wrong.

I did feel really bad, but all the kiddos were crying for dinner and I wouldn’t dare make waffles out of white flour.

It looked really depressing when the counselor did something he rarely does.

He went into the laundry room, opened the cabinet and brought out his tool box.  He dusted it off (that’s an exaggeration) and took out a screw driver.

I was holding the baby and watched a very disturbing situation.  The counselor took off the top of my wheat grinder and he started jamming the screwdriver up in this metal canal.

“Sweetie, just stop before you break it,” I said, but still the counselor persisted.

And wouldn’t you know it, in about 10 minutes he tightened the last screw back in place and that wheat grinder finished grinding the freshest wheat I’d ever tasted.

I was wrong.

I was mean too.

Another example?  How about when the counselor insisted he could grow cauliflower in our back yard and I told him we didn’t have time for a garden, nor the right type of soil.

"Honey, this is Arizona," I said.  "Nothing grows here but dirt."

See, how wrong I was.

My man is amazing at hamming it up for blog pictures, fixing things and growing things and I owe him an apology, or at the very least a batch of home-made whole wheat waffles with a side of steamed cauliflower.

Another example of when I was wrong?

I was wrong to give Sissy a chocolate cookie while shopping at Trader Joes.

Yeah, that was a big mistake.

I've been wrong when shopping trash too.  Sometimes I purchase something I think will sell great, only later to bite it.

I thought I’d found some real winners, when all I really found were some losers.

Like this Banana Republic Size 4 Long Leather Skirt.  This thing screamed money to me, but it still hasn't sold on eBay.  Does anyone out there wear floor-length leather?

Or what about his Lacoste Pleated Rainbow Skirt?  This thing must've cost a fortune new, but I can't get it to sell for anything on eBay.

You know I love retro, but I guess you can have one too many octagon mirrored lamps.

And my stuffed rocking horse hasn't moved or even rocked on Craig's list.  

I was almost wrong with this Armani Exchange Leather Jacket, but after several weeks, it sold.

I thought for sure this piece of trash was the perfect combination of money-making:  Jimmy Hendrix, pink tie-dye and Hard Rock Cafe, but no buyers for this collector t-shirt.

How could Dr. Suess sell before Jimmy Hendrix?  But it did.

But like the counselor, shopping trash can be very forgiving.  

You see,if I buy trash cheap enough, I still make money, even with all the things that don't sell.  I save my unsold trash, re-list it or sell it at a garage sale.  Then, what's left I'll donate back to Goodwill and call it a great day.

It's good to admit when you're wrong.  Making mistakes is a big part of buying and selling trash and I just can't get away from it.  I guess you can't go wrong with taking risks because you never know when a wrong might turn into a huge sell.