I can type fast.
I can't do a cartwheel.
I can punctuate a sentence.
I can't fix a string trimmer.
I can play the saxophone.
I can't sing harmony parts.
I can remember obscure dates and facts.
I can't do Sudoku.
I can make a paper airplane.
I can't tread water for very long.
I can tell you the starting lineup for almost any Cleveland Indians team from 1979 to the present.
I can't do the same with the Cleveland Browns.
I can wash the dishes and clean up a kitchen with frightening thoroughness.
I can't juggle.
I can throw food up in the air and catch it in my mouth almost every time.
I can't ice skate backwards.
I can remember exactly what my elementary school smelled like.
I can't remember what I had for lunch two days ago.
I can conjugate certain verbs in English, French and Latin.
I can't build even the most basic of treehouses.
I can go for days on end with little sleep.
I can't go more than two hours without a snack.
I can vividly see old Jerry Lewis Labor Day MDA Telethons in my head.
I can't picture the guy who helped me at Subway yesterday.
I can count to 10 in, I think, four different languages (English, French, Spanish and Japanese).
I can't figure out how the toilet really works.
I can teach a child to dribble a soccer ball in five minutes.
I can't teach that same child how to consistently clean up after himself.
I can come up with relatively lame lists and pass them off as blog posts.
I can't justify why I do that.
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