Camp Estrogen

Look. I know Mary has filled you in on the wondrous events of the weekend thus far but I must speak to that which she has not. Trust me, this is not an attempt to say she has missed something or that she hasn't presented an accurate picture. She has. It's more that what she doesn't tell you is how this affects a parent, let alone a couple; which Mary and I are. Though, there are those times when she gives me that look that says there will be a price to be pay. It may not be today. It may not be tomorrow. But it will be paid. You see, Mary doesn't play fair. If I steal your M&Ms it is only part of adult etiquette that something of mine will disappear and a smile will be on the face of the one formerly offended. For example; not too long ago I shot Mary in the behind with a water gun. Really I had no choice. It was my daughter's water gun and its a big water gun. Its a really big water gun. It's a bright yellow with a blue pump on the stock water gun and it was pleading to be used. Yes. I did. Right there in the kitchen and the look was provided. Within a few days she got even with me. A Keurig. A nice coffee maker indeed. I know you are thinking that this is no big deal but I'M THE ONLY ONE WHO DRINKS COFFEE! It would have been better if she had looked at me that day and said, "Why don't you just go to bed." That's the kind of fear I can handle but this "you-victimized-me-with-violence-but-I've-responded-with-love-and-compassion" kind of stuff is just flat out wrong, painful and not very nice! Sorry. A little side tracked there. What was it? Oh yes...the affect upon parents and couples.
Now, I'm not the fastest turtle in the race, but I do know that there are things that must make the head hurt. Living with with five women is certainly a meaningful experience. If you screw something up or say it the wrong way you will soon know the full meaning of what you have done! But there are things that make the head hurt. I'm not meaning give me an aspirin, naproxen or hammer to the forehead kind of pain. It's more like John Cleese's reaction in the Monty Python skit in which a simple spot was found on a customer's fork in an elegant restaurant. The kind where you clinch your teeth, roll your eyes to back of your head, press your hand with all your might to your skull and scream "the wound! the wound!" For example. You walk to the fridge and your diet pepsi, which was full last night, now only has but a drink or two left. You ask who drank your drink and of course no one can answer. So, you go through the process of elimination (I know...foolish) but when you get to the one in which you are 87.3% sure the response is, "there's still pop in the bottle, I didn't drink it all". It's not limited to such things as my soda, its any liquid container. I've come to learn that the rule is this. If the container still has about a quarter cup of liquid still in it it has not been consumed and if you ask "did you drink this?" it's "I didn't drink it all". If you ask "are you aware there are others in the house that may have wanted some?" the answer shifts to "I didn't drink it all". If you stress "I"m not asking if you drank it all, I'm asking if you consumed so much of it without concern of others wanting to have some of it?" the new and improved answer is "I didn't drink it all." My particular favorite happens to be things like empty ice cream boxes in freezer. What is amazing about this is that you have to leave the counter, which has a built in trash can, turn around, open the freezer door and put the box back in it. This is an increase in energy expenditure which runs contrary to the reason's given to such things as picking up messes, putting clothes away, letting the dog out, letting the dog back in, and getting a coaster for your drink. Do you feel my pain?
Let's talk potty paper! Oh yeah...I'm going there! Living with five girls I've learned...or I should say my son and I have learned, that boys are not the only ones who leave seats anointed with holy water.
But the real issue is that with a house full such as this there ain't no ply big enough! Plus the objective when using toilet paper is that the purpose of potty paper is to enfold the hand, let's liken it to say the size of a ball mitt...no, a hockey goalie's mitt...so that one may be assured that not only is the sphincter treated with the utmost of care but that all universal precautions have been taken to prevent the incidental exposure to...well....you know. Needless to say there are some household supplies that must be purchased in bulk at Sam's. Of course we did not broach the delicate topic of the complexity of removing and replacing a roll of tissue have we? If you have kids you know the song...every one sing with me! Ladies!....Men!......now everyone in Chinese! (thank you Steve Martin).
Of course there are those other things that make you wonder what is going on, why does he shave his butt....why does she have to line the tub with wash clothes before showering....why do they text us when we are in the same house...how do folded clothes show up in the clothes chute but no one knows how...why is everyone else's bedroom off limits to visitors but ours...how is it that gravity's pull will overwhelm a child in the ability to keep things off the floor but never keep them from scooping food off a plate...how many days is too many days to wear the same shirt, same socks and, oh, never mind...and how, oh sweet baby Jesus, can you hear the words "like", "so yeah", "uhm" and "I know" in a single sentence?
At our ages I am happy to say, Mary and I do not take any medications. We've never smoked, tried drugs and drink in moderation but here at Camp Estrogen I'm thinking it may be time to give any one of them a whirl! Then, here she comes, that sweet, wondrous Mary, recognizing the look in my eyes that begs to be put down with a cattle gun, placing her hand upon the side of my face, ever so gently, whispering, "why don't you just go to bed?" And I think to myself...good God...I'm going to die one way or another!"