Skills I did not inherit

I'm not good at ironing.  That is a fact.  My grandmother was excellent at it.  My mom and dad are both great at it.  I have to wonder why I did not inherit that gene.  I'm sure that it's not a big deal for 99.9% of the population.  I don't know that many people actually like doing it and the bulk of people I know send all of their ironing to the dry cleaners.  Normally, I would send my ironing to my mom (who is sweet enough to still do some if for me) or to the dry cleaners.  However, I'm working on a particular project that I don't feel comfortable sending out.

What project could this be and why would I not be comfortable sending it out?  Well, the short answer is I shouldn't be doing it.  What I'm doing is silly, pointless, and only for my own brief satisfaction.  I'm currently ironing the crib bedding.  Don't roll your eyes.  Okay, roll your eyes and call me crazy.  For one short minute I want to put the bedding on the crib, all clean and pressed, and say "That looks perfect."  I realize it will be short lived.  I realized that no rational person irons crib bedding.  I can almost promise you I won't do it again.  But I want that picture.  That snapshot in my memory of what the nursery looked like once upon a time.  Those snapshots get me through the times when my house is crazy and I realize that for the next few years my house will be crazy.  So for one brief moment, I want it to look the way I picture it in my mind.  Now, if I can only get these wrinkles out of the bedding before Jay comes home and catches me in the act.  It's hard enough looking at Lady who is clearly looking at me like I'm insane.  I don't need to get the same look and questions from my husband.