Girls are different than boys.
There! I've said it, mystery solved. we can all go home. Thanks for stopping by!
Q: Why is the toilet seat left down all the time?
A: Girls are different than boys.
Q: Why does divorce exist?
A: Girls are different than boys.
Q: Why can you uncover hairy plumber's crack for free in your own kitchen, but the Shaven Kitty Club imposes a serious cover charge just for showing up?
A: Girls are different than boys.
I know! Suddenly it all makes sense, huh? If only all of life's mysteries were that simple.
"Mommy why does that Rob guy still write a blog?"
"Only God knows Hailey. Only God knows…"
I spent the day yesterday working through divorce stuff. You know. It's much easier now. From a distance it's much easier to see that the crop circles on my bathroom mirror make patterns.
Things that didn't make sense between MyUnwife and I start to take shape. In the early days there was so much pain and blame that it was hard to look objectively.
"Well she did this. I did that. She did the other thing…" If you're locked in this phase now let me make things easy on you. Here's what to do: go into the bathroom. Open the medicine cabinet. Grab a lipstick. Any color is cool. Angel Red is probably my favorite. Write "I blame her" on the vanity mirror.
Now grab a grease paint stick from the Green Bay Packers Collection. Green or gold, doesn't matter. Write on the medicine mirror, "I blame him." See how the cabinet mirror reflects the mirror image in the vanity mirror? Notice how they seem to go on forever? This should be a clue. If not then continue this exercise to the next level.
Examine the reflection. Go ahead get close. Move your head, try to see the reflection from the cabinet mirror. It's ok if you get your head in between the two mirrors; it just makes you part of the show.
Are you there? Great. Grab the cabinet mirror in your fist and slam it into your head a few times. Does this make sense? Well neither does dwelling on the blame game. Slam it one more time just to prove my point. Oh, and do it one time after that just for listening to a blogger. You should be ashamed!
Now back to the mirrors. You know what started this cycle? You said "I do." From there the clock started ticking. Go ahead, slam your head one more time.
That's how the crop circles got on the mirror…
Yeah, I spent a few months here. The good news is, when you let go of the mirror, all you need to do is reach in on the top shelf. There's the aspirin. Take two. Feel better now? Good.
It was right after one of these concussion-apalooza fests that I realized the "girls and boys" thing. I felt so stupid and not because of the three knots on my forehead. It was so simple.
Need an example? Great. I've got a mirror full of them. A few months ago a fellow blogger wrote that she'd run out of cream for her coffee. The world stopped. Being a think-fast kinda gal, she opened her freezer and grabbed the next best thing: a scoop of Oreo ice cream.
Huh. I never thought of that. That's cuz I'm a guy. After she complained about the Oreo grounds at the bottom of the cup I asked her why she didn't use a pulp strainer on the ice cream? She told me that since she didn't even know what a pulp strainer was, her chances of using one, let alone having one, were pretty slim.
See? Girls and boys. I would never have thought of the ice cream/sugar cream substitute. I'd have just gone without. On the other hand, when it comes to tools for making her plan better, I'm all on it. Guys are fixers. I have a pulp strainer, but I don't know that I've ever used it. I don't even know where the thing came from…
On the other hand, a male friend of mine--we'll call him…uh…Bor. Yeah, Bor. Bor was in the kitchen making a fajita marinade. Like all tasty kitchen treats, the marinade required beer, but only a 1/4 cup. Here's the thing. Bor is a great guy. It's early afternoon, and he has plans on working out. Finishing the beer doesn't sound good to him. Putting an open beer in the fridge isn't an option. It'll go flat, the world morns wasted beer. Throw the beer out? Are you crazy? It's 7 bucks a six pack! See Bor is cursed. He has Richy Rich tastes on a Tiny Tim budget. He chooses the expensive beer; he just drinks it less often.
So what to do with the open container? Sounds like a problem from drivers ed, huh? Bor didn't have a cork or any kind of stopper…or did he? Opening the fridge, he saw the open package of hot dogs on the shelf. Taking one dog, he stuck it in the bottle neck. Problem solved.
It was a little disturbing to have a wiener protruding from his beer, but it wasn't going to go flat. Bor is alone so it's not like he was going to need to explain the dangling beer sausage to a date or anything. I told a woman friend about this, and she laughed at Bor. She would have never thought about the HD stopper. She'd have poured out the beer. Heathen!
This is where my hypothesis began. I've been shaping it and working it, and it makes sense. It answers all my questions about why things didn't work without painting blame on anybody for anything more than being born. I've already been blamed for that, I can deal.
On the other hand, the difference is nice. It creates good teams when it works. When it doesn't? Well I've got some more Angel Red, you're probably gonna need it.
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