When a friend of mine raved about "Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus" I had a nice hearty laugh. First, John Gray “Ph.D.” looks androgynous and sickly—the very antithesis of someone enjoying couplehood success. Second, I likened the book to the kind of fodder you’d find in Cosmo. You know, an article that promises a better relationship if only you, the woman, would greet your man at the door with a can of Ready Whip and your hottest friend…
You know what, though? The book is right on the money. How else to explain the great divide between the sexes than planetary dissimilitude?
Clearly we’re not speaking the same language. Clearly, Dr. Gray’s wisdom has been shuffled off the shelves and replaced with something less important, like “Beer Funneling for Dummies."
Case in point, Tuesday’s discord.
As I mentioned, Charles came home early from his Viking quest—but with organ issues. Despite the obvious pain on his face and the fact that he was hunched over, I wanted a giant bear hug from my husband and a genuine, “Oh honey, can you ever forgive me for going away?”
When I greeted him at the door I got neither. He raced past me and peed for about 45 minutes, all the while screaming in agony, then collapsed on the floor. He gave the porcelain bowl more face time.
Understandably, I was annoyed. He could hug the toilet, why couldn’t he hug me?
Bickering ensued, quite unnecessarily. I wanted a hug; he wanted one, too, but neither of us would do it first (this is what happens when two stubborn, first born children marry and one is overtired and the other has medical issues).
After giving the incident more thought and thumbing through Dr. Gray’s book, I’ve come up with the “what should have happened” scenario. Rest assured, I’ve been completely unbiased and fair.
Charles should have lifted himself off the bathroom floor and hugged me, even if said hug was merely an excuse to lean on me for support and whimper on my shoulder. I mean come on, if a haggard woman says she wants a hug, for fuck’s sake hug her. Do not—I repeat do not— say, “If you want a hug, all you have to do is hug me first.” That’s akin to a Pizza Hut telling a hungry person, “If you want pizza all you have to do is get in your car and drive to the restaurant.” There’s a reason someone invented delivery men. You have what we want. Just give it to us.
Charles should have lifted himself off the bathroom floor and hugged me, even if said hug was merely an excuse to lean on me for support and whimper on my shoulder. After that I should have retrieved the heating pad for his side instead of throwing it down the stairs.
See how easy it is?