Prego and the Feminine Mystique

There was one of the few episodes of Northern Exposure I watched in which Dr. Joel
Fleischman asked the sage-like Chris Stevens "What do women want?"

His response: "They want the same things we do only in prettier colours."

I guess that's evident in this Home Depot colour swatch from Disney. It seems that our little princesses are indoctrinated early on in their affinity for footwear. This is shortly before they are trained in the art of holding one's blouse whilst bending over to pick up your belongings -- a completely necessary maneuver, since if you're 18 or 180, we will attempt to sneak a peak at yo' bid'ness. (Keep them legs crossed, too.)

Apparently our affinity for great breasts stems from biology, where somewhere in the nether-regions of our minds a little voice says, "Jesus. Those mammoth mammaries could conceivably feed 20 children until adulthood."

Physical attributes aside, there are inherent differences between the genders that are inexplicable by non-scientific types such as myself. A few years ago, for example, a friend's toddler waddles into the kitchen towards her uncle. She spots him, throws her arms up in the air and says, "Hold me."

My friend turns to me and says, "Boy, they start that sh*t early, don't they?"

Apparently, they do. It's some kind of protection thing, especially after coitus, but sh*t, baby. I've got to get up for work in the morning.

There are many other instances where the hes and shes don't see eye to eye. A few years back, when my wife and I first moved in together before we got married, we got back from the grocery store. Keep in mind that I'd never lived with a woman besides my mother and sisters. When I unpacked the groceries, I looked at the cold cuts and decided to make myself a sandwich. That's just how we roll. My wise friend Jay once said, "That's how you know you're a guy. When you like stuff like snakes... and helicopters... and sandwiches."

It seems women like sandwiches, too. As I sit next to the "Someday-to-be-Mrs. P" and take a bite, my eardrum is pierced with a shrill, "You didn't make me one?!" followed by a diatribe of indignance that came from left field.

"Uh... I figured if you were hungry you'd have come into the kitchen instead of plopping down to watch TV." My pragmatic response fell on deaf ears as her demeanor changed from zero to livid in about 38 seconds.

For monts thereafter, whenever she started what I construed as an irrational argument (98% of them), I'd simply say "Sandwich. Sandwich." I guess that was just a feeble effort to thwart the inevitable "venting" that the fairer sex needs once in a while. There's no stopping it, gents. It's like trying to shield yourself from a tsunami with a Titleist™ golf umbrella.

They can blame it on all the syndromes they want (they f*cking corner the market on them), but in their wake they leave a weak man quivering or an even weaker man swinging at them.

The inexplicables abound, yet even the strangest idiosyncrasies are explained, usually. On a night out, for example, your wife or girlfriend might decide to go to the pisser at the bar, place her purse in front of you and say, "Watch this for me, would you?" I'm not much of a conspiracist, but I equated it with a little territoriality. The female animal, marking her territory with a $200 Burberry (further proof of my lack of understanding), ensuring that all the other female predators in the bar don't pounce on her man-bone.

Hot Female: Ooooh. Unattended stud.
Hot Female #2: Ta-ken. Look. There's a Burberry in front of him.
Hot Female: F*ck it. I'm moving in for the kill.

I maintained this theory for a while until I asked a friend's girlfriend about the 'purse-leaving' stratagem.

"So nobody steals it."

I'm convinced she was simply being a good soldier, just giving name, rank and serial number. Maybe under duress, if I wielded a hefty telephone book, she might have cracked.

"Yes, Prego. You're riiiiiiight! You're riiiiiiight. We're staking our claim!"

Then there's the sh*t I just have no explanation for. No man does.

As I walked in downtown Chicago with a female friend, my eyes were drawn to some off-the-chart hotitude. "Whew. I like."

My female friend replies, "Pregoooo. She's wearing nude pantyhose." As if this somehow should diminish my desire to pounce on some kibbles.

What the f*ck does nude pantyhose have to do with anything?

As with any crazy male/female conundrum, I usually get a second opinion from a female such as my sister Zilt (as crazy a specimen, if there ever was one).

Prego: Zilt, what's the deal with nude pantyhose?
Zilt: (aghast) Oh my god. Chick-a-to-wah gah!*

* (Cheektowaga is a Buffalo suburb, known for it's pink flamingoes on the front lawns, crustily hairsprayed coiffs and general d├ętritus blanc cheekiness)

So nude pantyhose is apparently tantamount to 70s bush on a string bikini? I was left bewildered with that one, particularly knowing that it's a removable garment. Perhaps they're just fuzzy dice in a t-top Camaro or a more tasteful vehicle. Either way it was the tip of the iceberg of what I don't know about women.

We don't always have such differences of opinions, the lasses and I. Yesterday I saw two cute girls talking at the supermarket -- one of them slightly more visually striking than the other. As I grabbed my Sapporo and made my way back I saw that they were walking pretty damn close to each other. "Man... They're lesbians!" I quickly decided to walk down their same aisle in hopes they decide to show some affection. Sure enough, right in front of the cereal they decide to have a tender embrace. "Woo-hoo!"

Lame-ass comic Paul Reiser quipped on lame-ass show "Mad About You" on men and our voyeurism where lesbians are concerned:
"They're girls, it's fun and I agree with both of them."

Unfortunately our society isn't as forgiving when the fellas want to get huggy. As far as tolerance towards male homosexuality, we're still in the Mesozoic Age. It's not like it'd yield the same reaction from me as the ladies did. I won't go tying any gay males to a lamp post to beat them senseless. It'd be more like, "Hey guys. One of you have change for a twenty?"

But girls? I get it. I really do. I got it when I saw the lady with Cerebral Palsy making out with the business lady while holding on to the walker. I got it when the two punk rock chicks made out with each other at the Buzzcocks concert. See? Some things I do get.

The sandwich? Nude pantyhose? Purse dropping? "Hold me?" I'm still working on my baccalaureate. Sh*t. Sometimes I still feel like I'm in third grade.

Mrs. P asked me to go buy her a pregnancy test today. Where the f*ck do they keep those, anyway? Near the tampoons, since it's a cooch thing? In the baby section, since that's what it's going to result in? Near the toilet paper, since it involves piss? Well, I finally found it near the festering 'chocha' ointment, for some reason.

Hopefully it's positive. Hopefully it's a girl. Maybe a daughter can help me figure all that crap out. I doubt it, though. She'll probably just drive me to utter a phrase all fathers dread:

"You're not leaving the house like that. You look like a hooker."

Or if I'm lucky, she's a lesbian.


Pickalish said...

I've always wished I could have been a lesbian. That sounds freakishly wacked, but it's true. And, like you, I totally 'get' it. If I didn't have to sex with a girl, I could definetely be a lesbian. =)

Atul said...

What a great rundown of the problems men have in understanding women. And to think you've been married at least a few years and you still haven't figured it out. That's a bad sign for me and single men all over the world. We'll never fully understand each other, (men and women) I mean, but I never apologize for being a man in the sense that I do stare at beautiful women regardless of if I'm attached or not, (to name one example). And of course, I get more looks from women when I'm attached, a trait woman have that I find to be borderline cruel. In modern society, it seems like it's OK for women to be women and be mean to men, but it's not OK for men to be men and be mean to women. That being said, we could collectively improve in certain areas, but let's be proud of our manhood.

Chrissie said...

I agree with pickalish!
Oh and don't wish for a girl - got a 12 year old that's killing me already! Maybe she'll be a lesbian....

Chrissie said...

oops - forgot to say Here via Michele's

keda said...

difference is goooood. though so is sleeping with girls.. so maybe contrast is better.

hell i dunno. but that was fun.
good luck with the test and the gender sweets.

Terri said...

Hi from Michele's....
This was a great post. Sounds to me like you are one astute male....you've got this feminine mystique down to a science.
Best of luck on the pregnancy test and here's hoping everything in your home will soon be all pink!

jsdaughter said...

o how funny- Michele sent me.. I'll be back..

Just a trumpet player said...

Great post !

Having had 5 girls, my father blames us for loosing all of his hair...

Michele sent me ; have a great post !

utenzi said...

Michele sent me, Prego.

Excellent post from our male perspective. Women are endlessly fascinating and often annoying as Hell. If it wasn't for breasts and points south....

I was just thinking about differences between the genders this morning. I suspect a lot of domestic violence is due to the different ways that the genders deal with arguments. When a guy is about to lose it, he goes to another room. What does a woman do? Follow him and continue the argument. What a dumb-ass thing to do! They sure can be cute tho...

Prego said...

You nailed it, Ute. I thought my wife was the only one that did that. It actually drudges up some rough memories.

"Oh... you want to just walk away, huh? You want to see me mad? I'll show you mad... Blah... Blah... Blahhh..." (Shudder)

Miss Cow is a Cow said...

Hello Michele sent me.

sage said...

this is great, I laughed aloud reading it, drawing stares from women in the coffee who have no idea...

I feel your pain, but let me say, daughters are great! Here via Michele's.

Jean-Luc Picard said...

This was a really entertaining post! So many problems...

Michele saent me here.

Uisce said...

Thanks for the eye-candy... I WAS REFERRING TO THAT TASTY SANDWICH!! :)

Oh yeah, and hello, Michele sent me! (as if you didn't know)

vanx said...

On the breasts--shortly after my first child was born and I witnessed all that breast feeding, I looked at the covers of "mens' magazines" and page six of the New York Post, etc., and thought--those things are simply functional and even absurd. Milk sacks. So what? What was I thinking all these years?

I got over it.

Carrie said...

Whew! I was going to post yesterday but I didn't want to be first. Silly, huh!

You will never figure women out, ever! You know why? Because we can't even figure ourselves out.

Great post and you had me in tears with laughter.

Azgreeneyes said...

You just made my day...as I sit here lmao, thinking 'sandwich. SANDWICH!' Here via Michele's and happy with that!

rob said...

In the early days of living with my ex-wife, we got into a bit of a row after I ate a bowl of serial and placed the dirty bowl in the sink instead of the dish washer. She asked me, "Why do you do that when the dish washer is right there?!?"

My response: "Because I'm not done with it yet."

And holy CRAP! Mrs. Prego might be prego?!? That's freaking AWESOME!!!

Good luck, brother. Sending good baby juju your way.

panthergirl said...

That was a fascinating dissertation! Frankly, I'm a firm believer that there are more differences WITHIN the sexes than between them.

I'm not a girly girl, and I know many (non-gay) men who don't fit the "male" stereotype either.

And I don't buy the "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus" thing, either. In my book, "Women are from Earth, Men are from Uranus." HA! I KEEEEEEED!

(hey, did you mention the naked Lindsey Lohan because of my Cyberia blog? Or was that just a coincidence??)

Here via michele. Sort of.

~A~ said...

Very funny, but you still have it all wrong. But that's okay, you have a penis, so we girls understand.

See, it's something that is secretly encoded in the Girl Scout handbooks. And even if a girl isn't a Girl Scout, she surely knows one and has been given the secret informaion.

Crossing my fingers for a possitive and a healthy happy normal boy or girl.

Plain Jane said...

Perhaps I shouldn't have laughed so much... but I did. I'm a female. :)

Carmi said...

As I read your hilarious and insightful entry, I listened to our eight-year-old daughter hold her own against her two brothers.

Girls are tougher. Hands down. I wouldn't ever want to square off against the likes of my little princess, as she's a tough little person.

I think there are so many things men aren't meant to know about the fairer sex. But the fact that you've purchased the p-test suggests you're doing OK on all counts.

Keeping my fingers crossed for you and yours, mon ami.

Becky68 said...

Here from Micheles,
as a reasonably down to earth female my own daughter, who's 16 confounds me on a daily basis so I'm afraid I'm no help. I also used to wear nude pantyhose, (now I just avoid them completely)
Good luck on the test part too!

Last Girl On Earth said...

This was another classic Prego post. I don't get the pantyhose thing, though. I never thought of nude hose and trailor trash going together. Maybe it's where you grew up!

Can't wait to hear the test results! (I hope it's a girl, too!)

Michele sent me over hours ago. I was slow getting over here.

Blond Girl said...

Michele sent me! I love the shoe thing, but just remember; we get shoes, you get saws and other powertools. It's the universes way of evening things out.

And the sandwhich thing? All she really wanted was for you to say "hey, you want one, too?" Then she knows you're thinking of her and not the food!

I think you'll have your vanfull soon.. Sorry it wasn't this time.