Look Behind
28 May 2011
There are fundamental differences between men and women. They can’t be erased. And even years of marriage can’t cure the Look Behind gene.
Men do not Look Behind. They don’t look behind the tomato soup because they are convinced that all pantries are four inches deep, and nothing lives behind the first row of cans. After they give up and tell you to write peanut butter on the grocery list, (that is behind the door to the pantry where they hung it) they will exhibit complete surprise when your arm magically disappears into the shadowy depth of the pantry shelf and reappears with the partially eaten and cracker encrusted (Need I mention that only one of us in this house even eats peanut butter?) jar of … wait for it … peanut butter.
Uh huh.
So I’m pushing my new Kath-driven push mower around my assigned small patches of lawn, when I hear The Prince Consort. The lack of engine noise is a flaw in my push mower. He knows I can hear him.
He’s lost a box cutter blade. In the grass. WE need to find it.
Uh huh.
Well, I decide to play ‘male.’ So I give him the solution, and go back to mowing. Been there, done that, right? Men are supreme at handing out the answers, and moving on to the next question.
Implementation is somebody else’s bailiwick.
Implementation is somebody else’s bailiwick.
When I finish mowing, I return to the garage. TPC is inside arranging his new Father’s Day gift. (Yes. It is very Female of me to have insisted he get it early before my coupon expired. And it is very Male of him to see the wisdom.) I ask if he found the missing blade.
Nope. He tried my suggestion of a flashlight, so he could see a metal reflection in the grass. No dice. He even tried a magnet. Nothing.
Because outside of the deer, possums, raccoons, chipmunks, neighbor’s dog, our cat, the turkeys, and who knows what other critters, the most likely barefoot traveler in the backyard will be me, I have to find it. I know where it is.
It takes me one minute to locate it. Right next to the peanut butter. Behind. Things do that. They bounce, not just drop straight down. It’s not magic. It’s not the forest fairies. They bounce and end up behind you.
Got it.
Huh? Where was it?
And he has that look on his face like he’s halfway convinced I pocketed it when he first lost it, and had been playing games with him. Well, yeah. I was playing games, but not the pocket game. I played the much practiced Look Behind.
Kath
