SHE SAID:
Men can be downright embarrassing sometimes.
I love Tony. I love him with all my heart. I do. I really really do. But there's a small part of me that really wanted to ditch him at the KMart on Mobile Highway this evening. Except he had the keys to the car....
My story starts like this: We were shopping for the last of the stuff we needed for Halloween this evening. Remember, it's 2 days before Halloween, and last minute costumes were on everyone's mind this evening, apparently. So we're looking at some costumes, some fake blood, etc and become separated by an aisle or two. Browsing through the stuff they had out, I barely notice the boy and his mother discussing costumes in the same aisle I was in. Then, I hear Tony 2 aisles over saying (loudly, mind you) "Hey, Maria, here you go!"
I hear snickering.
I politely ignore Tony, thinking to myself that I don't necessarily look like a Maria... he could be talking to anyone in the Halloween section. I'm kinda hoping that he gets my drift and decides to walk over to me and tell me or show me what he found quietly, only to be mortified when he comes around the corner and says (again, LOUDLY) "Hey, baby, here you go!" while holding up a french maid costume and raising his eyebrows up and down suggestively.
I wanted to melt into the shelf I was standing in front of and die. Or teleport myself home. One of the two.
HE SAID:
Have a seat ladies. You are about to learn a little something about men that can save your relationship.
Using tonight as an example, we went through three, that's right I said three stores looking for the final pieces to costumes. In fact we hit all three of the majors, Wal-Mart, Target and K-Mart. So where did this go awry?
The first thing that has to be understood is that men do NOT like to shop. Unless of course we are in the tools or garden section at Sears, or an auto dealership. So we carefully weigh each shopping trip according to several factors. First, have we been shopping with you recently and how recent was it. Second, what kind of mood are you in, could this do damage (physically or mentally to us) if we don't go. And third, where are we going. If the factors weigh out properly, we will go.
This brings us to the second thing that you must understand. When we are shopping for something we don't really care about, you have a short window of attention. It can be as short as three and a half minutes, or as long as ten minutes, it all depends. Once that window expires our minds begin to wander. Now according to some experts, deviant thoughts cross our mind every 3 to 5 minutes. See where this is heading?
So if we happen to walk past the "wrong" isle, or in my case see something that could have more than just a single use (to use something many times is being thrifty, right?) we must get your attention so you can follow our train of thought.
And remember, with thoughts like that in our heads as often as the experts say they are, we probably aren't going to be too shy about sharing them. Because every other man in the area hears us, and nods in agreement while glaring at their spouse.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
It's a sick thing
SHE SAID:
One of the most fundamental differences between men and women are when they get sick. And I think the women just gave a collective knowing smile and nod at this.
A man gets sick, he's laid up in bed, can't move, every single muscle aches, and he's got to be waited on. He's dying. He needs someone to take care of him. And women oblige. The mother instinct kicks in and we are compelled to take care of our men. We fawn over them and we fix them soup and we make a fuss so that they take their medicine. Poor baby!
*coughBULLSHITcough*
A woman gets sick and she's expected to recover in less than 2 hours and for some reason, men will STEER CLEAR of a sick woman. I start sneezing or coughing or complaining of a sore throat and the subject gets changed. I'm barely able to get up and walk to the other room because my body aches and my nose is dripping the second I stand up and yet I have to make sure the kids get off to school and get the laundry done and the floor swept while I have an infant hanging off of my boob.
Do men realize that giving birth is the closest thing to death there will ever be? We get booted out of the hospital the very next day. I mean, Hello? Just pushed an entire human being out of my body using only the muscles I haven't been working AT all for the past 9 months.... Does this count for anything? Seriously?
HE SAID:
Once again we see the Hand of Judgement coming down, and once again I am going to have to slap it away.
Yes it is true. When we are sick and at home we prefer not to move, whether from the bed or the couch. Yet unless we are near death we will get up, get ready and go to work. And we will work a full day. It is a right of passage. Who can be the sickest and still perform their job. I know I have been so sick and feverish that I couldn't see straight, I couldn't stand on my own for more than 10 minutes at a time and I couldn't keep any food down. But I worked a 10 hour day at the shop. It is a beat your chest man-thing, and every man out there has a story like it. You could even go so far as to say we would never be seen as weak at work. Quite frankly if we are told to go home and get some rest the first thing we will do is argue, "I'm fine don't worry about it." No matter how badly we wanted to go back to bed.
It's kind of funny that a woman would complain about us wanting to steer clear of them when they are sick. Do they not realize how contagious and toxic they are? First in the physical sense. If you don't maintain a 6 foot working distance you will receive the bug, in two-fold strength. Second in the mental sense. A woman's short temper is cut in half by any kind of illness. Once again a man tries to do the right thing by keeping the conversation in the "safe zone" to avoid an explosion and we get demonized for it.
And of course sweetheart, just to make sure you got the trump point you ended on child birth. As men we have no argument here. If it were left up to us to give birth the population of the earth would quickly dwindle away. But if you like we could shoot ourselves in the foot each time you went into labor...
One of the most fundamental differences between men and women are when they get sick. And I think the women just gave a collective knowing smile and nod at this.
A man gets sick, he's laid up in bed, can't move, every single muscle aches, and he's got to be waited on. He's dying. He needs someone to take care of him. And women oblige. The mother instinct kicks in and we are compelled to take care of our men. We fawn over them and we fix them soup and we make a fuss so that they take their medicine. Poor baby!
*coughBULLSHITcough*
A woman gets sick and she's expected to recover in less than 2 hours and for some reason, men will STEER CLEAR of a sick woman. I start sneezing or coughing or complaining of a sore throat and the subject gets changed. I'm barely able to get up and walk to the other room because my body aches and my nose is dripping the second I stand up and yet I have to make sure the kids get off to school and get the laundry done and the floor swept while I have an infant hanging off of my boob.
Do men realize that giving birth is the closest thing to death there will ever be? We get booted out of the hospital the very next day. I mean, Hello? Just pushed an entire human being out of my body using only the muscles I haven't been working AT all for the past 9 months.... Does this count for anything? Seriously?
HE SAID:
Once again we see the Hand of Judgement coming down, and once again I am going to have to slap it away.
Yes it is true. When we are sick and at home we prefer not to move, whether from the bed or the couch. Yet unless we are near death we will get up, get ready and go to work. And we will work a full day. It is a right of passage. Who can be the sickest and still perform their job. I know I have been so sick and feverish that I couldn't see straight, I couldn't stand on my own for more than 10 minutes at a time and I couldn't keep any food down. But I worked a 10 hour day at the shop. It is a beat your chest man-thing, and every man out there has a story like it. You could even go so far as to say we would never be seen as weak at work. Quite frankly if we are told to go home and get some rest the first thing we will do is argue, "I'm fine don't worry about it." No matter how badly we wanted to go back to bed.
It's kind of funny that a woman would complain about us wanting to steer clear of them when they are sick. Do they not realize how contagious and toxic they are? First in the physical sense. If you don't maintain a 6 foot working distance you will receive the bug, in two-fold strength. Second in the mental sense. A woman's short temper is cut in half by any kind of illness. Once again a man tries to do the right thing by keeping the conversation in the "safe zone" to avoid an explosion and we get demonized for it.
And of course sweetheart, just to make sure you got the trump point you ended on child birth. As men we have no argument here. If it were left up to us to give birth the population of the earth would quickly dwindle away. But if you like we could shoot ourselves in the foot each time you went into labor...
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Hormonal Mess
SHE SAID:
Maybe it was the way his voice sang out sweetly that caused me to snap.
I'm in the bathroom, trying to pee while trying to keep my eyes semi-closed. (If they were all the way open, that would mean I was completely awake, and I just wasn't ready to wake up yet, dammit.) Tony is holding a crying baby. I need to hurry up so I can feed him.
"You almost done, honey?" Tony sings out sweetly.
"Can't I freakin go to the bathroom UNinterrupted -- EVER?"
The moment I said it, I knew the answer: No. Never. Ever. I open up the bathroom door and glared at him. Taking the baby from him so that I can feed him, I never took my eyes off of him. He looks back innocently and says, with all of the sincerity and sweetness and understanding in the world, "Oh, you must have started your period. I'm sorry."
Sorry? Sorry? For what? Sorry that I am a hormonal mess? Or are you sorry that I get to bleed for days and days without dying? Ugh. Sorry. Could it ever occur to him that I might not be starting my period? It could be that he did something to piss me off, and I was just mad. It could have been one of the kids make me mad.... It COULD have been that I was just in a bad mood.
I am allowed to be in a bad mood. Sometimes.
Dear Mr. PMS,
(I say Mr. because only a man would be so cruel.) I hate you so much, I wish you would die.
Love,
Maria
HE SAID:
Well, well, well. Seems we need to put some perspective into this discussion. A man's perspective.
You see ladies, if a man pays attention just a little over the course of a year he can tell you within the hour when your period is going to begin. That's right, an hour before you know he could tell you. "How can this be possible?" you ask. Let me show you.
Notice how Maria said her eyes were semi-closed. No she wasn't waking up, it is a side effect known as the PMS Glare. The eyes narrow to a slit and small black rings appear below them. This glare usually begins approximately 2 hours before the fireworks. Amateur males should never attempt to look into these eyes. The damage can be irreversible.
The other important thing to look for is The Stalking. This is a system by which the female will miss "nothing" that is wrong or out of place. Upon noticing there will usually be a "hmph" and if no one answers the next thing is an accusation of guilt.
But let's take a look at the more important part of her story. Notice how I was kind and endearing, that is a tried and true survival plan. Sure I could be cursed for using a phrase like "I'm sorry" but what is the alternative? Getting mad at her would only make things that much worse, because now she isn't just dealing with PMS, but we've just thrown a full fledged argument in her face, bad move.
To summarize; let's be honest here. As men we have all the respect in the world for a woman who has to deal with bleeding for days (quite the feat) and the hormonal issues that come every month. But as far as the "Can't I just be in a bad mood" thing, be careful using that one. We have our share of bad days where everyone is a piece of sh** and we'd love to rip their heads off, but you have to draw the distinction between these two issues. One can last for days, the other one we can usually cope with by having a beer and hanging out in the back yard for a few hours.
Some other time we'll deal with this issue of men being more cruel than women. hahaha
Tony
Maybe it was the way his voice sang out sweetly that caused me to snap.
I'm in the bathroom, trying to pee while trying to keep my eyes semi-closed. (If they were all the way open, that would mean I was completely awake, and I just wasn't ready to wake up yet, dammit.) Tony is holding a crying baby. I need to hurry up so I can feed him.
"You almost done, honey?" Tony sings out sweetly.
"Can't I freakin go to the bathroom UNinterrupted -- EVER?"
The moment I said it, I knew the answer: No. Never. Ever. I open up the bathroom door and glared at him. Taking the baby from him so that I can feed him, I never took my eyes off of him. He looks back innocently and says, with all of the sincerity and sweetness and understanding in the world, "Oh, you must have started your period. I'm sorry."
Sorry? Sorry? For what? Sorry that I am a hormonal mess? Or are you sorry that I get to bleed for days and days without dying? Ugh. Sorry. Could it ever occur to him that I might not be starting my period? It could be that he did something to piss me off, and I was just mad. It could have been one of the kids make me mad.... It COULD have been that I was just in a bad mood.
I am allowed to be in a bad mood. Sometimes.
Dear Mr. PMS,
(I say Mr. because only a man would be so cruel.) I hate you so much, I wish you would die.
Love,
Maria
HE SAID:
Well, well, well. Seems we need to put some perspective into this discussion. A man's perspective.
You see ladies, if a man pays attention just a little over the course of a year he can tell you within the hour when your period is going to begin. That's right, an hour before you know he could tell you. "How can this be possible?" you ask. Let me show you.
Notice how Maria said her eyes were semi-closed. No she wasn't waking up, it is a side effect known as the PMS Glare. The eyes narrow to a slit and small black rings appear below them. This glare usually begins approximately 2 hours before the fireworks. Amateur males should never attempt to look into these eyes. The damage can be irreversible.
The other important thing to look for is The Stalking. This is a system by which the female will miss "nothing" that is wrong or out of place. Upon noticing there will usually be a "hmph" and if no one answers the next thing is an accusation of guilt.
But let's take a look at the more important part of her story. Notice how I was kind and endearing, that is a tried and true survival plan. Sure I could be cursed for using a phrase like "I'm sorry" but what is the alternative? Getting mad at her would only make things that much worse, because now she isn't just dealing with PMS, but we've just thrown a full fledged argument in her face, bad move.
To summarize; let's be honest here. As men we have all the respect in the world for a woman who has to deal with bleeding for days (quite the feat) and the hormonal issues that come every month. But as far as the "Can't I just be in a bad mood" thing, be careful using that one. We have our share of bad days where everyone is a piece of sh** and we'd love to rip their heads off, but you have to draw the distinction between these two issues. One can last for days, the other one we can usually cope with by having a beer and hanging out in the back yard for a few hours.
Some other time we'll deal with this issue of men being more cruel than women. hahaha
Tony
Monday, October 5, 2009
The big three oh.
Maria said:
The Naval Aviation Museum this past weekend was fun. Except the part where the volunteers asked me if the baby was a girl or a boy and when I answered "boy" and rolled my eyes, Tony had to chime in and explain that the "girl" they were seeking out in our group was not there... she just graduated high school. I elbowed him in the ribs and told him how much I hate it that he does that. It makes me feel so ... old. I am not old enough to have an 18 year old.
Tony and I are 8 years apart. When you are older, age really does not matter so much as when you're .. say 12 and 20 years old... or even 20 and 28. I'm 29, Tony is 37. Not a big deal. We hardly notice.
Except for times like at the museum.
At any rate, my decade of being in my 20s is rapidly coming to a screeching halt. February is fast approaching and I am far from prepared. While on Facebook a while back, I noticed one of my high school classmates looking for ideas for her to-do list for before she turns 30. I so need one of those. Although, it may have been a better idea to come up with this list, oh, say, 10 years ago.
Tony said:
Yes I agree. It can be a little annoying when people ask whether or not Nicholas is a boy or girl. Seriously I won't go out in public and let Maria put anything on him even in the shade of yellow. I prefer to stick to the "manly" colors of black, blue, maroon, brown; you get the idea. The kind of things you would never dress your daughter in.
Now as far as bringing up my daughter, I have several reasons. The first and most important is I never want Maria to forget what having a teenage daughter in the house is like. You know, just in case Maria starts to get the idea that she wants to try for a daughter. And the second reason is that I am not going to be a grandfather by myself. I pride myself on being able to live up to the old adage: you're only as old as you feel. And frankly I am very young until the end of the day.
Now I'd like to help Maria out with that list of hers. Here's some advise to live by. If you make out a list of all the things you want to accomplish it can only go one of two ways.
First let's say you accomplish everything on said list. After the euphoria wears off you will spend the next two years in a deep depression wondering what in the hell you are living for and what you are going to do next.
Now let's say you don't finish the list. Most likely you will fall into a deep depression because you were unable to finish the list. You will feel like a loser. So keep the list unwritten, in other words make a mental list and take your entire life to finish it.
You may be asking how I can be so well informed about this list thing. Two years of trying to figure out what comes next enlightened me.
The Naval Aviation Museum this past weekend was fun. Except the part where the volunteers asked me if the baby was a girl or a boy and when I answered "boy" and rolled my eyes, Tony had to chime in and explain that the "girl" they were seeking out in our group was not there... she just graduated high school. I elbowed him in the ribs and told him how much I hate it that he does that. It makes me feel so ... old. I am not old enough to have an 18 year old.
Tony and I are 8 years apart. When you are older, age really does not matter so much as when you're .. say 12 and 20 years old... or even 20 and 28. I'm 29, Tony is 37. Not a big deal. We hardly notice.
Except for times like at the museum.
At any rate, my decade of being in my 20s is rapidly coming to a screeching halt. February is fast approaching and I am far from prepared. While on Facebook a while back, I noticed one of my high school classmates looking for ideas for her to-do list for before she turns 30. I so need one of those. Although, it may have been a better idea to come up with this list, oh, say, 10 years ago.
Tony said:
Yes I agree. It can be a little annoying when people ask whether or not Nicholas is a boy or girl. Seriously I won't go out in public and let Maria put anything on him even in the shade of yellow. I prefer to stick to the "manly" colors of black, blue, maroon, brown; you get the idea. The kind of things you would never dress your daughter in.
Now as far as bringing up my daughter, I have several reasons. The first and most important is I never want Maria to forget what having a teenage daughter in the house is like. You know, just in case Maria starts to get the idea that she wants to try for a daughter. And the second reason is that I am not going to be a grandfather by myself. I pride myself on being able to live up to the old adage: you're only as old as you feel. And frankly I am very young until the end of the day.
Now I'd like to help Maria out with that list of hers. Here's some advise to live by. If you make out a list of all the things you want to accomplish it can only go one of two ways.
First let's say you accomplish everything on said list. After the euphoria wears off you will spend the next two years in a deep depression wondering what in the hell you are living for and what you are going to do next.
Now let's say you don't finish the list. Most likely you will fall into a deep depression because you were unable to finish the list. You will feel like a loser. So keep the list unwritten, in other words make a mental list and take your entire life to finish it.
You may be asking how I can be so well informed about this list thing. Two years of trying to figure out what comes next enlightened me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
