Listing

Lists are always just a few items too long. I suspect that is because some numbers feel magic. I know when I am writing, and I am giving examples, I usually try to find three examples. Two never seems like enough to make my point. Or if I'm going shopping, I group items in short groups around the page so I can mentally cross out things as they go in the cart. Or when I make a 'to do' list, I like to add a couple of things that I know I will never get around to, but like to pretend I'm going to try anyway.
The list that brought this to mind was one I received through e-mail about simple solutions to everyday problems. Some of the suggestions were pretty good, like baking cupcakes in ice cream cones, using baby powder at the beach to get sticky sand off your skin, or using drinking straws to core strawberries. (I guess that isn't very useful, but you were counting to make sure I used three examples, weren't you?)
The item that should have been left off almost sounds more like a dirty trick than a real suggestion. Apparently, if someone uses color crayon on a television screen, you can remove it with WD 40.
You can think that over for a second to come up with your own reasons why it is better to have a crayoned tv screen than an oiled one, but what comes to my mind is: if someone has used a color crayon on your television screen, you have more of a disciplinary problem than a cleaning one.
One thing I know for sure about whoever came up with the WD 40 idea, is that it was a man. No woman ever in the history of the world would spray that stinking oil in her living room. But, that doesn't mean that a woman wouldn't have recommended this solution if she was making a list that needed to be her list-length of preference.
My useful homemaking tips don't work as lists because they are usually of the 'I can't believe I did something that stupid' variety. Like when I mistook the blue can of spray glue for the blue can of window cleaner. Or when I tried to make beads out of salt and cornstarch, and they exploded in my oven. Or when I let Ryanne choose the paint color for the spare bedroom.
But I do know lists, and I'm sure they are always at least one item too long.

Nancy Sherer