There’s one thing you should know about me: never, ever send me to a hardware store if you actually want the right part back.

I don’t know why, but I have this uncanny ability to choose the wrong thing every single time. Need a half-inch fitting? I’ll come back with a three-quarter inch. Need screws? I’ll bring bolts. The last time I went, I somehow managed to get something that didn’t even exist in the original request. Talent, really.

And yet… I keep going back.

Because here’s the thing: mistakes are just part of the process for me. Woodworking, sewing, even cooking—I’ve ruined more projects than I can count. But each time I screw something up, I learn a little more. (Like the time I tried to “eyeball” cutting wood for a shelf and ended up with something so crooked it could’ve doubled as a funhouse prop. That shelf still lives in my garage as a reminder.)

What I’ve realized is that doing things “wrong” has actually made me pretty good at finding creative fixes. I may not get it right the first time, but give me a roll of tape, some leftover screws, and about twenty minutes, and I’ll make it work. It might not be pretty—but it’ll hold.

Life feels a lot like that too, doesn’t it? We think we’re supposed to get everything right on the first try, but half the fun (and most of the growth) comes from figuring it out as we go.

So yes, I’ll probably still bring back the wrong part from the hardware store. Twice, if you’re lucky. But I’ve learned to embrace it. Because sometimes the “wrong” way ends up being the more interesting one.