I Have a Totally Random and Somewhat Useless Talent

I can put a name in a snowflake. . . See?


Ok, so if you don't see . . . look at it all folded up and then you can probably see it better.


So, how did I come by this talent, you ask? Well, snowflake cutting is always a big deal in our family. Every year my mom pulls out the paper and scissors as the ceremonial commencement of our Holiday decorating. As children, mom would have to remind us each year how to fold the perfect snowflake template and then warn us not to cut through to the other side. These instruction would begin hours of intense concentration interspersed with miniature snowstorms of paper clipping confetti and suspenseful snowflake unveilings.

Within the first five minutes, my mom would open up the most delicate and beautiful snowflake in the world. In about ten, I would unfold something that looked like hers, only run over by a truck.

So from there (more in the interest of competition than creativity, I have to admit,) I determined to learn the mystical ways of glorious snowflake cutting and dedicated my remaining holiday years to fulfilling this desire. Through much practice and research, I was able to hone the talent of my collective gene pool and enjoyed the self appointed title of "Snowflake Professional".

Then one day, about two years ago, as I was cleverly showing my niece and nephew how to cut snowflakes, the name-in-a-snowflake idea popped into my head. Thanks to the years of practice and research, I realized the my visual and spatial skills were such that I was successful at producing my very first NameFlake (as I just now decided to call them) of my nephew's name, Parker.

Because of this discovery, I chose to promote myself to the title of "Snowflake Genius" and I have been enjoying the numerous perks and incentives of the new position ever since.

*Dang! Someone already stole "NameFlake". I think my interpretation is cooler, but it's probably too similar to call mine the same thing. Shoot.