Charles, I admire your writing, and rely on it for a semblance of sanity.
But with all due respect, you wouldn’t completely lose your mind if you were a woman.
You’d be too busy:
- running the damn carpool
- changing the toilet paper on the roll
- remembering your daughter will only eat blue jello
- navigating the dinner invite from the couple you’ve avoided the last 3 times, because your partner doesn’t like them
- remembering to put the lunch money in the backpack
- taking the dog for a walk, after you clean up the stuff he’s chewed to bits because he was inside all day (you can relate)
- buying birthday cards for your nieces and nephews on both sides
- keeping track of who in the family you share what news with
- threatening the kids with cripes knows what if they don’t brush their teeth
- reminding your boss at work he has a lunch date with his male CEO pal from another company
- reading movie reviews so you know what’s appropriate for the kids to watch
- knowing they’re going to watch the bad stuff anyway, and planning what to say to them about it
- calling the the parents who are having the sleepover, to see if they keep guns in the house
- keeping an eye on the rear view mirror as your kids fight it out in the backseat on the way to buying them school supplies, when all you really want to do is smoke a joint and toss them some broken crayons and see how that works out for them
- texting your partner important news three times because that’s how many times it takes before they pay attention to their texts; meanwhile trying to remember what you learned in Drivers’ Ed about changing a tire, from that teacher who wouldn’t keep his hand off your knee, but now all you can remember is his hand and something about lug nuts
- reminding your partner to charge their phone
- clearing all the clutter out of your house according to the realtor’s instructions so you can sell it
- picking paint colors to repaint the house so you can sell it, after arguing with partner about why it matters, because paint costs $200
- clearing time in your schedule to go sign papers at the closing because the house sold in one day
- remembering which Disney princess your granddaughter is obsessed with, so you don’t screw up her birthday
- making a mental note to talk to your granddaughter about princess worship, maybe after the birthday
- buying the wrapping paper from your kids’ school so your kid isn’t the only one who brings an empty envelope back to class when the fundraiser is over
- making sure the sheets on the beds are comfy so you can all get a good night’s sleep.
Oh, look at that, you only had time to think about sexual harassment once. Whew.
I could go on. But I know you get it, Charles. You’re one of the good ones.
And if you turn out not to be, I’m gonna be so pissed.
Hillary calls it “emotional labor” in her book, as one of the real jobs women do that goes uncredited and unpaid. I mentioned it to my husband and he laughed. Now I shall beat him up with it, until he gets it.
It’s the only way they learn.
Yup. And then there’s THAT, Charles…let us know how it goes.
Well said Kitty! Love your writing.
Thank you, Terry.
to be fair, i did go through a phase of only eating blue jello…