*published June 16, 2005
We love our guys, even though sometimes it seems that they live in a different universe. Like gravity and centrifugal force, I think that men have their own set of physical laws that they must obey.
We're all aware of the law forbidding men to ask for directions, but have you witnessed its corollary, that if they ask for directions, they cannot listen to the answer?
Every year, my father drove us from Decatur, Illinois to the zoo in St. Louis, and every year we got lost. We'd drive around for an extra hour while my mother sighed loudly until my dad finally pulled over for directions. He ignored whatever he was told and we'd continue to wander the streets for another half-hour before pulling over to ignore someone else's advice. Finally, we would stumble upon the zoo just as my tolerance for my brother's company had reached its limit.
I've never seen my husband, Dale, stop and ask for directions, but he will stop for maps. I think of this as the manly solution to being lost, so I refrain from sighing loudly and let him figure things out.
Another "men's law" is that they must have the correct tool for the job. If I want to hang a picture, I find a nail, any nail, and something to use for pounding it into the wall. In five minutes, I'm done.
A man needs a picture-hanging nail of the precise size to bear the weight of the picture and the matching hammer of the appropriate material to drive the nail into the stud. Oh, yes, the man must find the stud and measure from each corner, the ceiling and the floor to determine where the picture should be mounted. If he doesn't have the right tools, he will drop everything and go to Home Depot to get them.
In the meantime, I've moved on to the screws that need to be loosened with my kitchen knife.
Speaking of the kitchen, men have laws about finding things there. They can open the kitchen cabinets to dig out a bowl and a spoon for cereal, but they cannot unload the entire dishwasher because, they "don't know where anything goes." My guess is that they have so many sports teams' statistics to remember that their brains don't have room for where the spatula is kept.
Oddly enough, although they can find dishware in the cabinets, men can stand in front of the pantry with the doors wide open and tell you that they can't find the mustard. Many times I've been asked for help, only to move a bottle of ketchup or a box of cereal to reveal the desired object. I've even performed this feat at other people's homes – for the man who lived there!
Men's quirky laws aside, I do adore my husband and hope that our son turns out to be as honest and smart and hard-working as his dad. For Father's Day this year we'll probably take Dale on a stroll down Kraemer Boulevard to have breakfast at our neighborhood IHOP. Hopefully, we won't have to stop and ask for directions!