Let’s face it, there are always going to be some things in this life that men and women will never truly see eye to eye on or understand the importance of. From a male perspective, they are never going to quite understand the importance of a really great pair of shoes, chocolate, the need for a new hairstyle or the dilemma that one doesn’t have a single thing to wear in her overly crowded closet.
Living in a house of boys, I find myself perplexed by the fact that potty humor is so funny, that sound effects are a necessary part of speech, and that snacking in the kitchen is a way of helping with dinner. And I’ll never figure out how it starts so early. I mean, for crying out loud, Jadyn (my 2 year old) told his first joke the other day. It was a well thought out, well delivered joke and went something like this.
Jadyn: Hi, Momma.
Me: Hi Jade.
Jadyn: *smiling in a way that usually means he’s done something he shouldn’t have.*
Me: *seeing if I can mind read so I don’t have to get up and search the house for misplaced toilet paper, cat locked in the closet or any number of things a two year old can get into in the time it takes me to put together his lunch.*
Jadyn: poo-poo ba-ba, Momma.
Me: Jadyn, there’s no such thing as a poo-poo ba-ba (bottle).
Jadyn: *nodding and laughing hysterically.* Poo-poo ba-ba. (and runs away still laughing.)
It was at this point I realized there are some things I’m just never going to understand, like the male genetic predisposition for potty humor.
These things aside, I’ve come resigned to the fact (after ten years) that I have to leave my house in order for someone to truly appreciate the outfit I’ve put together. I mean, my husband will always compliment me on a new shirt or outfit, usually by saying “that looks good on you.” I’ll take it; after all, at least he noticed I was not leaving house in pajamas. I found myself, the other day, after I was particularly proud of a fabulous pair of choral colored shoes, explaining to him that the perfect accessory I wish I had was a chunky, mint colored necklace. (This was, in no way, a hint for him to buy it for me, I was just in general musing.) You know, because of the contrasting colors. He nodded his head with the enthusiasm of someone about to get their teeth pulled at the dentist and I found myself being given a rather odd look by another man crossing our path.
Actually, what that man was thinking was something sympathetic towards my husband.. I imagine something along the lines of “That poor man, having to listen to his girlfriend/wife/whatever, prattle on about things he has absolutely no interest in.” Well, I think that’s too many words for a guy to say in a situation like that. Reality is he probably just thought “whoa bro, sorry.”
It was here that I stopped and kinda laughed at the absurdity of my sharing what truly would’ve completed an outfit to a man who considers a change in his wardrobe as flipping his backwards facing hat to frontward facing.
It’s moments like these I find myself wishing I had a daughter to share these things with. Somehow, pointing out the prettiest pair of earrings to my explosion making, spastically moving almost eight year old boy does not conjure up the same reaction. Of course, I have to realize as well that even if fate had seen it appropriate to give me a daughter, she probably would be making fart jokes along with her dad and telling me, “Mom, really? Do you need another pair of shoes?” Either that or she would so much more obsessed with shoes and the latest fashions that I would have nothing left to spend on myself. I suppose I’ll deal with the potty humor.. as long as I get to deal with it in a stunning pair of heels.