At breakfast I was talking to Benjamin about baseball, which he's been struggling with, explaining that everyone isn't good at everything. I volunteered that I certainly wasn't good at everything. Ripley quickly spoke up and said "Yea, you're not good at throwing." (as in pitching a baseball) I agreed. Ripley reminded sweetly, not a hint of negativity detected just genuine honesty "You're noooootttttttt." "You're right Love, Mommy isn't good at throwing." Sheesh.