Clever work mantra compromises family jewels
It’s been established that I don’t know how to do anything handy. We know this. That doesn’t mean, however, that I can’t do anything that falls under the umbrella of “things men are supposed to do.” For example, I can move things. Like, from here to there. I can pick it up and move it. It should probably be mentioned that even in this endeavor, I fail at the nuances of doing it well. Once while moving a desk I accidentally ripped the top off because I was holding it by the lip, an act that couldn’t support the weight of the base underneath. (As embarrassing as that is to admit, I’m quite proud of myself for even identifying that part of the desk as the lip without having to Google “what’s that part of the edge of a desk that just begs you to lift from there?” It is called the lip, right? Forget it.) I distinctly remember, years ago, helping my dad and his friends put together a shed in my parents’ backyard. Everyone’s confidence in my and my cousin John’s ability to do the techn...