Boys. Who needs 'em?
I mean, really, if not for parallel parking, deep sea fishing and apparently, dominating the increasingly popular field of gold-mining, we could get by just fine without 'em.
OK, all right. They're generally fairly handy with power tools, too.
Seriously, though. I know humanity would cease to exist without the male contribution toward continued population of the planet. But, I must admit that men certainly do put the "Y" in the whole chromosome / DNA dance party, don't they?
As in, why do they continue to baffle the women folk with their odd habits of behavior?
Allow me to illustrate the point via a story featuring my two favorite boys: my husband Kerry and his shorter facsimile self - I mean our son, Kyle.
Might I interject that the boy looks remarkably like his mother (poor kid) but acts identically to his father? We should have just named him Kerry Jr., but I digress.
The gender war underwent a battle of significance last week as our son secured a new weapon for his arsenal: his first air-soft rifle.
For those of you who may be unfamiliar (gals who have daughters or those whose sons are not yet of appropriate age to enter the air-soft army - whatever age that is) air-soft guns are sort of like BB guns with softer, allegedly less harmful BBs.
Major Mama hmpf. Need I tell you I was opposed to this acquisition?
In keeping with the boys baffling MO, my husband had our son call me from Gander Mountain in Niles to ask my permission for the purchase.
Incensed at the idea that I was (once again) being sent to guard the front line a.k.a. serve as the kill joy, I replied simply but firmly.
"I don't like the thought of it at all, but your father is there and I am not. I will leave it to his best judgment," which is clearly code for "Don't you dare come home with that thing in hand."
Of course, they did.
Score one for man - well, the little man, anyway. Kerry was probably wishing he'd made the other call as he slept out on in a foxhole in the backyard that night. I think it snowed a little.
Some of the other ways men confound women daily include: Refusal to perform remedial household tasks, such as changing the bath towel frequently (as in, when it begins to smell like Fritos) and slipping a new roll of toilet paper onto the empty holder. (I mean, you just rebuilt the carburetor on your '65 Mustang, you got this!)
Other head-scratchers include: watching the entire 12-hour "SpongeBob SquarePants" marathon with your offspring (really, example-setter?); risking hypothermia to wash the car in subzero weather but believing it's ridiculous to stock up on canned goods / bottled water in advance of predicted six-inch snowfall; drinking expired milk but refusing to coast along one mile past a recommended oil change date; and driving 14 miles to pay a nickel-a-gallon less for gas but refusing to buy the 10 for $10 toilet paper special because "we don't need that much."
You're right, honey. The expiration date on toilet paper is such a small window. Forget I mentioned it and have another glass of that curdled milk.
Kimerer is a Tribune Chronicle columnist. Contact her with sane, girly suggestions at firstname.lastname@example.org.