I don’t know, does this really warrant a blog post? Maybe I’m wrong about this.

This is another one of those things that feels like every day for me—or at least every other day. I like to think that remembering I might be wrong about everything means I am a somewhat intelligent person—or at least makes me a slightly less annoying person than I might be otherwise.

I have had my share of hubris-fueled embarrassments, however. There was the time I was five and absolutely positive I could find my way from the park to my great-grandfather’s house—a whole four blocks or so—and got hopelessly lost in a tiny town of 1,500 people. I overshot by one block south and two blocks east, knew enough to realize I had screwed up somehow, and was walking back to the park to start over when my uncle came looking for me. He made me follow him home, and I am pretty sure he took the longest, most roundabout route he could think of to teach me a lesson.

There was the time I told my dad it was of tantamount importance that he sign a permission form for me to do something or other and he couldn’t do it until he recovered from the coughing fit he laughed himself into.

There was the time I bet my not-yet-husband that Aretha Franklin sang Rescue Me and wound up owing him a LOT of … ahem … favors. I’m not sure he ever actually managed to collect in full. (I have occasionally wondered if that was what finally prompted him to propose. But he assures me that if he’d known my prowess for making jelly and dinner rolls, he would have proposed regardless.)

My current Wrongness is centered on our hot tub. (Side note: Hot Tub Day is March 28!) There was a hot tub at our house when we moved in. It broke—last year, I think? I insisted we replace it with a new one, harboring visions of using it in fall, winter and spring. I think we have used it twice. When we were out of town a few weeks ago, we had a hard freeze. Naturally, the breaker flipped while we were got and the entire tub froze up solid as a rock, cracking the pump—requiring a $2,000-repair for a machine we barely use. But hey, maybe this will inspire us to use it more? Or it will freeze up again and we will just use it as a giant flower planter, as my husband proposed we do when the first one broke. Because if ever there was a person entirely suited for Everything You Do Is Right Day (which is tomorrow), it’s him.