"These are things that I don't understand" --Coldplay

I've come to realize I am not without my hangups.*

I tend to think the husband and I break down the stereotypes of what a "man" does and what a "woman" does.** He's happy to let me drive when I want. I'm happy to let him wrap presents when he wants. It isn't that the other can't do it. It's just that we tend to be "equal opportunity" on these things.

So, tell me something... *stretches out on couch*

Psychoanalyze me...

I was just included on a "recipe exchange" email. The kind where you send a recipe to the name on the top of the list, take that name off the list, add your name to the bottom of the list and send it to 20 people. I did that. As I did it, I picked 20 women to annoy--er, include in the mailing.

Here's my issue. Why did I pick all women? I know men who are great cooks and bakers, the husband included. Yet, when it came to a "recipe exchange" suddenly I was in Witness with the men raising a barn and the women swapping recipes. Which is silly.**** Do men even "do" formal recipe exchanges? I have no idea.

If you are a man, would you have wanted to be included in my recipe exchange*****? If you are a woman and hypothetically participating in the exchange, would you have included men's names? Am I an idiot for getting involved in a recipe exchange at all?******




* What do you mean, "I know"?

** Besides the most obvious. We still stick to those.***

***He burps and scratches. I do the scantily clad pillow fights.

****I look terrible in those little caps.

*****Not a euphemism.

******I know a woman who knows a woman who has an aunt who once broke a recipe exchange and her souffles fell for seven years straight! I am NOT making this part up.*******

*******I am TOTALLY making this part up.

Man = mechanic

"We wipe your pipe
We pump your gas
We jack your back
We scrub your glass

So join the ranks of those who know
And fill your tanks with Texaco"*

Bless all of you for not responding to my last post with "Wait, you told your husband you were worried about your tires and he didn't take care of it?"

I don't expect my husband to take care of my car. That's because a) he has his own car to be concerned with, b) much like me, he knows almost nothing about cars** and c) it is not 1950.

My mother, on the other hand, a very intelligent woman who speaks five languages while I can sometimes barely speak one, expects my husband to know about cars, electronics and so on, simply because he is a man. She does not have this expectation of me, because I am not a man.

So, it is not uncommon for us to have a conversation like the following when we visit her:

Mother to Hubby: There's something wrong with my car.

Hubby: What's wrong with your car?

Mother: [Describes problem.]

Hubby: Have you taken it to a mechanic?

Mother: Not yet. I thought you could look at it.

Hubby: I could certainly look at the car. Literally. But short of setting the clock, I doubt I'd be of much help. I don't know anything about cars.

Mother, handing him the keys: If you wouldn't mind... See if you can fix it.

Hubby looks at me as if to say: What should I do now?

I look at Hubby and say to my Mother: He'll take a look at it.

Because what does it hurt to look?

He and I go out to the car and here's the thing: Where Hubby knows very little about cars, he is a very logical, methodical fellow. And often the problems she has are not so mechanically intensive. So, for example, he can sometimes un-stick a stuck seat lever by smacking it with his shoe.

We go back in and, because he thinks it's ridiculous, I proudly announce: He fixed it! Isn't he clever?!***

This reinforces her belief that he is a mechanical genius and, of course, this encourages her to come back to him the next time anything goes wrong.


* Actual words from the old Texaco song. Amazing, no? If you're so inspired, add a new verse.

** Unlike me, he has other talents that are much more valuable.

*** I'm all kinds of evil this way.