Do not fear the pineapple.

Tonight I stood at my kitchen island, barefoot on the cool hardwood floor, cat at my elbow, cutting up a pineapple. This is significant for a couple of reasons: One, I've recently started slowly replacing chocolate and peanut butter with fresh fruit -- not an easy or unremarkable task. In my life, kind of a big deal. And two, because I realized I had never before, in my 15 years as a single woman, cut up a pineapple. "How is this possible?" I wondered, followed immediately by, "...and how the hell do I know what I'm doing?" Because I don't know if you've noticed, but cutting up a pineapple is not intuitive. I realized that while I have not, myself, ever held knife to pineapple, I have watched more than one man do the deed before me, while I have sat, elbows on the counter, wide-eyed and impressed. W.T. ever-loving-F.??

Then I started thinking about what else I've never done for myself, that I most certainly could. I've never shoveled snow. I've lived in Colorado for almost five years, through five winters, and I've never scraped a snow shovel on my own driveway. Could I? Well, I'm sure I could! But...why, when I could simply implore a man to do it, or better yet, live somewhere with snow removal included in the rent? I'm sure there are many other such things in life of which I am more than capable, but for one reason or another, I've always depended on others to fulfill. Aaaaaaand that's how a simple post about the pleasure of slicing fruit turns into something too deep to tackle on a Monday night.

So for now, I leave you with this thought: Just what else might you be capable of?