She Said
Mars and Venus are alive and kicking in the Hill/Oldham relationship. Want proof? Check out the differences between men and women in "the world according to Dena."
It's a standing joke that men will drive up and down the same streets repeatedly all the while looking for the right house because the intended hostess said "We're in the directory" and Mr. Too-Proud-To-Ask-For directions decides to find it himself. A counterpoint would be that women always take too long "getting ready" and that's why we're always late. Well, we reserve the right to take longer getting ready to go out than men do. But that's because we have more details to attend to. A national survey showed that each 15 minutes it takes for a woman to get ready increases her chances of success by 6% (success at what wasn't clarified, but when you're my age, any success is welcomed!) Many men take 15 minutes from start to finish, so do the math. Sorry guys, you weren't included in the survey.
Because many of us gals work away from home we have double duty at night when its dinner time with dishes, laundry, homework, etc. While the women of the Baby Boomer Generation tried to do it all, the women of Generation X have learned from our mistakes. They're smarter than we were. They're demanding more equality in sharing household responsibilities when they, too, are putting in a hard day on the job.
Hats off to the men who willingly share household chores and why not? Contrary to popular belief, men, you won't get a hernia from picking up your socks. The worst thing that can happen is you'll make more time for togetherness as a couple, instead of singleness for pounding the remote control.
Speaking of remotes, why do men like to surf channels while commercials are on? How are we supposed to know what new products are on the market if we don't see them advertised? Men can single-handedly cause a collapse in free enterprise, if women don't know what to buy! These are the same men who can channel surf and keep score on three games at once, but who can't follow a conversation with their significant other while the TV is on thanks to their one-track minds. How many times have I heard "Don't talk to me while I'm watching TV!" Selective attentiveness.
Now about the toilet seat and the age-old question: up or down? I really don't care. It takes just as much effort to lower it as it does to raise it, so it really isn't a big deal to me. But why not show a little consideration and take turns with it after each person has used it? 50-50 is a good compromise.
However, 50-50 isn't such a good compromise when it comes to driving on trips. That's definitely a man's job. Women should just be pleasant companions who add levity to a dreary trip and point out beautiful sights along the way.
These little idiosyncrasies often end up with Mr. Mars pouting, so when your smiley face is turned upside down, why not just go back in your cave? If you're good, you can come out with Puxatawny Phil in February.
He Said
Miss Venus wants to talk about the differences between Men and Women. I'm game. Let me take them in order from the male perspective, or at least from this man's perspective.
Directions: In our case, usually Miss Venus has gotten the directions from her friends or family. Normally she has written the wrong street name, forgotten whether to turn left or right, or puts down 20 miles instead of 2 miles. If I stopped to ask someone, the directions would still be wrong because of incorrect initial information. Let's just say men can't win either way.
Getting ready: I say to Miss Venus how much time do you need to get ready? She answers, "not too long; maybe an hour." I sit and wait patiently wondering why the shower is still running 30 minutes later. She must be the reason for our present drought! Two hours later when I go to check on her progress, she is standing in front of the TV watching the rest of some previously recorded soap opera. If I don't go in and check on her and she comes out in two hours, I ask her, "What took so long?" She answers, "Bad Hair Day." Men can't win either way.
Household Duties: My mom and dad both worked everyday. They both also did the household duties. When I come in and ask if I can help, Miss Venus always says,
"Oh no, you go read the paper; dinner will be ready in a few minutes."
It's the same with mowing the yard. She says she would rather do it, because she cuts it a certain way.
In both of these instances, it's not that she doesn't want my help.
She just feels that I'm incapable of pleasing her the way she wants the job done.
Men can't win either way.
The thing about the remote. (This was the best one yet.) I can't remember the last time we went to a movie or watched TV when she did not fall asleep. I don't have a choice now. She must pass my test. As soon as she falls asleep, I put my hand up over her eyes about an inch from her face and hold it there for a minute. When I remove my hand, turn to her and ask, "Are you sleeping"? Her response is always the same. "I'm not sleeping." So flipping channels, watching racing, or whatever, really shouldn't matter to her. She'll be sleeping anyway and I'll get chastised for channel surfing. Men can't win either way.
The toilet seat we agree on. Today I'm putting a chart on the wall in front of the toilet. When you raise the seat, put a check by your name. When I raise the seat, I'll put a check by my name. We will each put $50 in the kitty and at the end of the month, whoever has the most check marks wins the kitty. To my knowledge no woman I have ever known has raised the toilet lid when finished, so maybe this time a man will finally come out on top....
And I thought that a man couldn't win.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
He Said She Said - Where would you like to eat, Honey?
He Said
I already know the answer to this question but just for the sake of argument, let's break it down into parts: the first part is about who makes the decision. In a democratic society, one could take a vote. Of course if the parties are you and your significant other, the outcome will be one to one. Then what? Or you could agree that since I decided the last time, you get to choose this time but let's face it, we're OLD and our memories aren't what they used to be. ( Or is it my selective memory, again!) I pride myself on being a gentleman so I always ask you where you want to go. Since you're such a lady, you always say that anywhere I choose is fine with you. So I choose after twelve or fifteen times of ping-pong conversation and a half a tank of gas. Here's a good example. I tell you that I want barbecue and then you politely tell me that you're not in the mood for barbecue or I don't like that restaurant. "But you just told me that I could choose!", I retort. "Fine" you say quietly as you give in. The next thing I hear is "But I'm going back on my diet". Translation: You can eat there if you want to but since I don't like that place, I'll silently protest and refuse to eat. The subterfuge is telling you I'm on a diet. The other part of this question could be that whoever pays, chooses the restaurant. But if I always pay, then I always choose, and you always are on a diet. This would save me lots of money; however, I would be always eating alone. You would be sitting across from me but I would be feeling so guilty about you drinking water and smelling the bread, that I could never enjoy my meal. I guess the third part of this situation could be to just stay home and eat what you cook. The other angle here is that since we both work full time, why should you have to be the one to cook and clean? So I gallantly offer to cook dinner for you. The biggest problem of all is that I don't cook.
She Said
How convenient... you don't cook. Do you think I was born knowing how to boil water? You can read, can't you? You can follow directions, can't you? Opps...I almost forgot...most men don't ask for directions! You were beginning to sound somewhat rational until you veered off into your fantasy world. How many times have you cooked for me? If you did, what did you cook? Deviled eggs and lemon pie out of a box? Not on my diet! As a working mother who has always cooked breakfast, lunch, and dinner without complaining, I think you are blowing this "where to eat" thing all out of proportion. When you say "let's eat out" I just assume you are tired of my cooking or there is a new restaurant that you want to try out or you finally figured out that I work longer hours than you do and it would be nice to have a break from the dinner/dirty dishes routine. So let's break it down into parts as you say. If you're tired of my cooking, you can eat at your house, bring your own food over, or cook dinner for yourself. If you want to try a new restaurant, I'm game. Just tell me when, what time, etc., and take me there. Don't make such a big deal out of it. If you're planning to give me a break, that's GREAT! It will be greatly appreciated. I always knew how thoughtful you were and dinner out is a loving way to show it. To be honest with you, I don't really care where we eat or IF we eat out at all, except on special occasions. When you want to eat out, pick a place, pay for it, and then you'll be happy and I'll be happy. Remember, I don't have to have French Cuisine and Caviar every day especially since you're a meat and potatoes guy like most men. Besides, you eat out every day at lunch so dinner can't be but so important to you. Speaking of lunch, let's get back to the Danview cook. What's going on there?
I already know the answer to this question but just for the sake of argument, let's break it down into parts: the first part is about who makes the decision. In a democratic society, one could take a vote. Of course if the parties are you and your significant other, the outcome will be one to one. Then what? Or you could agree that since I decided the last time, you get to choose this time but let's face it, we're OLD and our memories aren't what they used to be. ( Or is it my selective memory, again!) I pride myself on being a gentleman so I always ask you where you want to go. Since you're such a lady, you always say that anywhere I choose is fine with you. So I choose after twelve or fifteen times of ping-pong conversation and a half a tank of gas. Here's a good example. I tell you that I want barbecue and then you politely tell me that you're not in the mood for barbecue or I don't like that restaurant. "But you just told me that I could choose!", I retort. "Fine" you say quietly as you give in. The next thing I hear is "But I'm going back on my diet". Translation: You can eat there if you want to but since I don't like that place, I'll silently protest and refuse to eat. The subterfuge is telling you I'm on a diet. The other part of this question could be that whoever pays, chooses the restaurant. But if I always pay, then I always choose, and you always are on a diet. This would save me lots of money; however, I would be always eating alone. You would be sitting across from me but I would be feeling so guilty about you drinking water and smelling the bread, that I could never enjoy my meal. I guess the third part of this situation could be to just stay home and eat what you cook. The other angle here is that since we both work full time, why should you have to be the one to cook and clean? So I gallantly offer to cook dinner for you. The biggest problem of all is that I don't cook.
She Said
How convenient... you don't cook. Do you think I was born knowing how to boil water? You can read, can't you? You can follow directions, can't you? Opps...I almost forgot...most men don't ask for directions! You were beginning to sound somewhat rational until you veered off into your fantasy world. How many times have you cooked for me? If you did, what did you cook? Deviled eggs and lemon pie out of a box? Not on my diet! As a working mother who has always cooked breakfast, lunch, and dinner without complaining, I think you are blowing this "where to eat" thing all out of proportion. When you say "let's eat out" I just assume you are tired of my cooking or there is a new restaurant that you want to try out or you finally figured out that I work longer hours than you do and it would be nice to have a break from the dinner/dirty dishes routine. So let's break it down into parts as you say. If you're tired of my cooking, you can eat at your house, bring your own food over, or cook dinner for yourself. If you want to try a new restaurant, I'm game. Just tell me when, what time, etc., and take me there. Don't make such a big deal out of it. If you're planning to give me a break, that's GREAT! It will be greatly appreciated. I always knew how thoughtful you were and dinner out is a loving way to show it. To be honest with you, I don't really care where we eat or IF we eat out at all, except on special occasions. When you want to eat out, pick a place, pay for it, and then you'll be happy and I'll be happy. Remember, I don't have to have French Cuisine and Caviar every day especially since you're a meat and potatoes guy like most men. Besides, you eat out every day at lunch so dinner can't be but so important to you. Speaking of lunch, let's get back to the Danview cook. What's going on there?
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
He Said She Said - Learn to Ski ?
He Said
by Larry Oldham
As I might have mentioned in an earlier column, I’m not really big on sports. A great weekend trip for me would be going to New York to see a play, doing a little shopping, dining in a couple of fine restaurants. So you can guess how excited I was when my fiancée suggested that we go to New York for the weekend.
I dashed to my computer to search for hotels, Broadway shows, favorite restaurants. I was like a kid with a new toy. Then she dropped the bomb. “Oh, we’re going to New York all right, but not to Manhattan. We’re going to Cazenovia, New York.” This is about 20 miles from Syracuse and guess what folks. We are going skiing!
Mr. Coordinated, Mr. Big Time Sports Guy, Mr. “I Wish I Was At The Mall” is going to demonstrate for the world how to break his neck!
“No, No,” she says, “not on a slope...we’re going cross country skiing for the exercise.”
“Well that’s different. Why didn’t you say so in the first place? You know how much I like to exercise! You can look at my physique and tell that.
We flew out of Greensboro at 6:30 a.m., leaving Danville at 3:30 a.m. Fortunately in New York, we stayed with relatives, which was great. (Thanks Bill and Betsy for your hospitality!) By the way, the airline lost our luggage for the whole weekend so we had to ski naked...OK, I made that naked part up, but it would have been cool. (No pun intended.) All was not in vain though, because while she was skiing, I was on the snowmobile looking for a shopping mall. I didn’t find one, but I did find a nice little Italian restaurant that helped a little, PLUS I lived to tell this story.
She Said
by Dena Hill
MEN! Either put up or shut up. Two weeks ago he wanted to go out-of-town to a play at the Prizery followed by dinner at the Molasses Grill (which was delicious, I might add) and so we did. Did I complain? No. We met some of our friends and had an enjoyable time. But now for something different.....
I suggested that we go to see my cousin in New York because they had 5 feet of snow. We could ski, snowmobile, and maybe even ice fish. It was my turn to look forward to a great weekend. We flew up, rented a car, and met my cousin on Friday afternoon. Mr. Sports Guy didn’t want to cross country ski...too boring...too cold...too tiring.
Mr. Whiner wanted to sit by the fireplace and watch it snow while looking in the paper for what was on sale at the malls.
Bill finally enticed him out to the garage where he met the snowmobile. End of story. One trip flying around the trail and we couldn’t get him back in the house. What a speed demon! He rode that snowmobile for 2 days straight while I tried to keep my skis on.
I spent a lot of time falling and he spent lot of time picking me up—but not from a ski tumble. He turned the snowmobile over twice.
Cazenovia is a beautiful, quaint little village that we love to visit every summer and go boating on the lake. Well, this time of year, the lake is frozen with a foot of ice. I actually drilled a hole and measured it. After 2 hours of begging, I finally got my star snowmobile athlete to walk out on the lake and ice fish. The Brave One didn’t stay long though because he didn’t catch a fish and he whined about how cold it was.
From my perspective, it gave a whole new meaning to his superiority complex and the probability that one day he could walk on water. This week he finally did... too bad it was frozen!
by Larry Oldham
As I might have mentioned in an earlier column, I’m not really big on sports. A great weekend trip for me would be going to New York to see a play, doing a little shopping, dining in a couple of fine restaurants. So you can guess how excited I was when my fiancée suggested that we go to New York for the weekend.
I dashed to my computer to search for hotels, Broadway shows, favorite restaurants. I was like a kid with a new toy. Then she dropped the bomb. “Oh, we’re going to New York all right, but not to Manhattan. We’re going to Cazenovia, New York.” This is about 20 miles from Syracuse and guess what folks. We are going skiing!
Mr. Coordinated, Mr. Big Time Sports Guy, Mr. “I Wish I Was At The Mall” is going to demonstrate for the world how to break his neck!
“No, No,” she says, “not on a slope...we’re going cross country skiing for the exercise.”
“Well that’s different. Why didn’t you say so in the first place? You know how much I like to exercise! You can look at my physique and tell that.
We flew out of Greensboro at 6:30 a.m., leaving Danville at 3:30 a.m. Fortunately in New York, we stayed with relatives, which was great. (Thanks Bill and Betsy for your hospitality!) By the way, the airline lost our luggage for the whole weekend so we had to ski naked...OK, I made that naked part up, but it would have been cool. (No pun intended.) All was not in vain though, because while she was skiing, I was on the snowmobile looking for a shopping mall. I didn’t find one, but I did find a nice little Italian restaurant that helped a little, PLUS I lived to tell this story.
She Said
by Dena Hill
MEN! Either put up or shut up. Two weeks ago he wanted to go out-of-town to a play at the Prizery followed by dinner at the Molasses Grill (which was delicious, I might add) and so we did. Did I complain? No. We met some of our friends and had an enjoyable time. But now for something different.....
I suggested that we go to see my cousin in New York because they had 5 feet of snow. We could ski, snowmobile, and maybe even ice fish. It was my turn to look forward to a great weekend. We flew up, rented a car, and met my cousin on Friday afternoon. Mr. Sports Guy didn’t want to cross country ski...too boring...too cold...too tiring.
Mr. Whiner wanted to sit by the fireplace and watch it snow while looking in the paper for what was on sale at the malls.
Bill finally enticed him out to the garage where he met the snowmobile. End of story. One trip flying around the trail and we couldn’t get him back in the house. What a speed demon! He rode that snowmobile for 2 days straight while I tried to keep my skis on.
I spent a lot of time falling and he spent lot of time picking me up—but not from a ski tumble. He turned the snowmobile over twice.
Cazenovia is a beautiful, quaint little village that we love to visit every summer and go boating on the lake. Well, this time of year, the lake is frozen with a foot of ice. I actually drilled a hole and measured it. After 2 hours of begging, I finally got my star snowmobile athlete to walk out on the lake and ice fish. The Brave One didn’t stay long though because he didn’t catch a fish and he whined about how cold it was.
From my perspective, it gave a whole new meaning to his superiority complex and the probability that one day he could walk on water. This week he finally did... too bad it was frozen!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
.jpg)
.png)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.JPG)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
