Wednesday, June 1, 2011

One XX Against Three XY Equals Y

There's a definite disadvantage to being the only female in a house of mostly men. 

Bathroom issues jump to mind first and foremost this morning.  I'm sure most of my readers are assuming it's the ever looming argument of leaving the toilet seat up.  Actually, this crisis was solved years ago between Eric and myself.  There was a time early in our marriage when I would sit my semi-conscious body down for a midnight tinkle and land rather unfortunately in cold, wet, nasty toilet bowl water.  This would usually result in a severe back slap to my sweetly sleeping spouse and ignoring him when he yelped out in painful protest.  The bathroom issues go far beyond this now.  You see, men don't use toilet paper as often as women do so leaving an empty cardboard tube is not as horrible to them as it is to us.  The "drip dry" process doesn't work like my Father tried to convince me during a pee-wee football game when I was a little girl. (And, by the way, this was also the time I learned that peeing behind a tree for girls is not as simple as it is for boys.  I'm certain Dad is still giggling in Heaven over this; however, he didn't know I sat on his favorite jacket on the way home from the game.)  There is nothing more unfortunate than hollering for a roll of toilet paper.  And when this doesn't work, waiting to "drip dry" for a moment or two, straddling half way across the bathroom with my jeans down around my ankles, only to find the nearest box of tissue because inevitability there are no extra rolls of toilet paper under the sink.  It's enough to ruin one's day, especially when you plug the toilet using tissue instead of toilet paper.

The second disadvantage, the dinner table conversation.  Just shoot me.  Some women don't mind discussing exhaust pipes, monster trucks, solar flares and the like with their men.  Not me.  Just once I'd like to talk about the Bette Davis movie I watched the night before.

Why do men communicate with belches, farts, spitting, and butt moons?  For my friends in Malaysia who are unfamiliar with what a butt moon is, it's when someone pulls down their pants and exposes their fannie.  For what purpose?  I'm not sure.  My husband is the king of mooning.   On one of our first official dates he did this to me.  I don't know why.  Was it a flirt because if it was, it almost sealed the deal of me never seeing him again in my lifetime.  Now my oldest son does it.  My fifteen year old who doesn't know the difference between behavior at home and in public.  Lovely.  The next time he does it, it will probably be in front of a police officer and I'll have to bail him out of jail for public indecency.

And finally, their terms of endearment for me...

Eric:    Woman, Sex Slave (privately and not really), P.I.T.A. (Pain in the Ass)

William:  Old Woman, Woman, Old Lady

Austynn: Hey Mom, Hey Mom, Hey Mom, Hey Mom, Hey Mom, Hey Mom

Need I say more?  I love my men; however, I think it's time to adopt a daughter.

1 comment:

Brenda said...

Two XYs against my little X over here, so I get it. Actually I'm a bit more rude than my son is. He's a bit prude. But, he is a boy so there is some lack of hygiene and keeping his surroundings (bathroom) clean. Remind Eric that he is the role model there so no pulling by the hair and waving his club around. Ok, wait, let me think of a way to rephrase that and I'll get back to you.