My Oprah List.

So I was hangin' out over at The Stiletto Mom's place, where she's been reading this Oprah nonsense about how O doesn't walk or do stairs. Which I find ironic, seeing how I just now saw a talk show with Bob (her trainer) the other day was saying he tells his clients to hit the stairs of the hotel for exercise. I wonder how she takes the rest of his advice...

Anywho, everyone's been doing this Oprah list on what they don't do. Because we're all about the Mama here, let's get started on the list of things Mama doesn't "do," shall we?

Mama doesn't do wildlife.
Mama doesn't do peas.
Mama doesn't do crummy food.
Mama doesn't dust.
Mama doesn't do tents. Or hippies in tents.
Mama doesn't do Hyundai. Or Kia. Or Toyota, with their recent tales of FAIL. (even though there was a period when I was in love with the 4Runner and some of their trucks. I firmly believe the 22R engine they made is one of the best, but apparently they chose crappy steel to build the frame. And they rot. Nice?)
Mama doesn't do screaming children. Mine or other people's.
Mama doesn't do mornings. Even though the Husband seems to think that after 31 years, I should somehow switch to mornings. (Sorry dear. Not likely to happen.)
Mama doesn't do sugar-free. I'm somewhat embarrassed by the amount of sugar I require in coffee. And don't drink my sweet tea if you don't expect to break your teeth.
Mama doesn't [like to] do yardwork. But I do the gardens, I even scooped today.
Mama doesn't do pink. Magenta? Love.  Bright, bold colors? Can't get enough of them. But pastel pink? Do not like.
Mama doesn't really do icky things. Yes, I have picked up worms, but I don't like to. I was a tomboy growing up, after all. But now that I realize I can make someone else pick that stuff up for me, that's how I roll.

I'm sure there's a ton more, but I'll just go ahead and quit so the Husband can stop rolling his eyes at me.