Dumb overachievers are all pretty annoying

Do you know any of those humans who are really great at everything?

You know, they try their hand — make that feet — at soccer and excel. Then they use those feet to run track a few years later and qualify for junior high champs. All the while, they’ve been intermittently swimming and decide that THAT will be their sport of choice — and proceed to smash pool records in high school and college.

Oh, and they also become the valedictorian and win a bunch of art awards, to boot.

Oooh, then there’s also that whole, “I can play music by ear. Maybe I’ll write a few songs?” hidden talent.

But enough about my kid.


Rotten brilliant, athletic, adorable, artsy punk. How does he do that, anyway? Totally skips a generation, just sayin’.

Proud sigh.

Then there are the Bradley Coopers of the world who can act and produce and direct and (who even knew?) sing — and do it all, well, like a rock star, yo.

Did I mention he’s not the most unfortunate-looking male on the third rock? Sa-woon, by the way. I digress.

But, yeah, they’re all pretty annoying, no? Dumb over-achievers. Making the rest of us earthlings look like regular old cave dwellers.


And, yes, it’s true that I can’t sing like Lady Gaga or act like Julia Roberts. I can’t play an instrument — unless the maracas count? Fine, have it your own way, meanies.

But, I got some game. Sure, it’s not in an actual SPORT, per say.

I mean, I’m no baller. I can’t play tennis very well. Or soccer. Or volleyball. Or softball. I completely STINK at golf — even the Putt-Putt kind — and can’t sink a ball on a pool table to save my life.

I’m not so handy at scrapbooking, needlepoint, embroidery or quilting, either.

I can’t make an origami. I’m not too fab at skipping stones. I’ve accidentally killed every plant I’ve ever owned. My sense of direction is legendary… because it’s so abysmal.

Frankly, I totally get Fredo (middle Corleone brother in “The Godfather” films): “I was stepped over but I can handle things. I’m smart. Not like everybody says… like dumb… I’m smart and I want respect!”

Me, too, buddy.

I mean there ARE things for which PK’s got a flair, all right?

Gimme a second, I’m thinking!

I’m not a bad cook. Homemade Italian bread, sauce, lasagna and wedding soup, those I’ve got down pretty well. Chicken scampi, homemade mac and cheese, breakfast casseroles extraordinaire? I’m your girl.

I’ve got a pretty high threshold for pain.

Ah, and I can certainly figure out a plot line early in a story. In fact, I’ve accidentally been a human spoiler alert on several occasions by blurting out who’s gonna “done it” or who’ll end up happy ever after… or dead. HINT: The other humans seem to thoroughly dislike when I do this.

I’m excellent at keeping secrets, emboldening confidences and seeing the good in the other humans. I’m stellar at finding solutions to problems great and small (except mine, of course) and cheering hearts. I’m not too shabby at the whole inspirational messaging thing.

I am patriotic, loyal and honest to a fault. I never waiver in my faith in God, family — or the power of a good cup of coffee.

And I just made you smile, so, I ain’t so bad at that either, capisce?

Kimerer is a Tribune Chronicle columnist who is kinda OK with a turn of a phrase, but don’t ask her anything about numbers when you contact her at www.patri ciakimerer.com


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