I was just reminded why I don't take my fiance with me to the grocery store. We don't go together anymore because I frankly don't care what things cost by the half-ounce.
Marketing experts know that generally speaking, there's a shopping gender gap. Women tend to enjoy shopping. I know exactly what I want, get in and get out. I find that if I only have a few things to buy, I don't mind browsing. If.I.Am.Alone.
Most men don't like to shop. Not so with John. He has an opinion about everything and we generally leave with 400 items that we didn't intend to come with and 100.00 over budget. To his credit, he loves to cook, and food shopping is fine...I just can't do it with him.
Ladies, we can manage Home Depot alone just as guys can deal with Victoria's Secret solo. We don't have to do either together. Many marriages have been strained almost to breaking over shopping trips. Most psychologists advise spouses not to shop together.*
In fact, wives should never insist husbands join them, say, for shopping excursions to Target. That kind of abuse could bring out the Bad Boy in any man.
I found a list of Ten Reasons Why Women Shouldn't Take Men Shopping. It speaks for itself. Right, guys?
Acts Committed By Bored Husbands In Department Stores:
1. Took 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in other couple's carts when they weren't looking.
2. Set all the alarm clocks in Housewares to go off at 5-minute intervals.
3. Made a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the women's restroom.
4. Went to the Service Desk and asked to put a bag of M&Ms on layaway.
5. Moved a 'CAUTION - WET FLOOR' sign to a carpeted area.
6. Hid behind a clothing rack and as people browsed through, whispered "Pick me! Pick me!"
7. While handling guns in the hunting department, asked a clerk where the antidepressants were.
8. Looked right into the security camera and used it as a mirror to pick his nose.
9. When an announcement came over the loud speaker, assumed a fetal position and screamed, "OH NO! IT'S THOSE VOICES AGAIN!"
And last, but not least:
10. Entered a fitting room, shut the door, waited a while, then yelled very loudly, "Hey! There's no toilet paper in here!" (One of the fitting room clerks passed out).
So...shop with the guys at your own risk. Personally, I didn't have to deal with any of these things. But it's really annoying to try to grocery shop with someones hands creeping down the back of your pants, or up your shirt, or whispers of dirty stuff they want to do in every aisle. I'm sorry....spaghetti sauce just doesn't turn me on.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Friday, March 12, 2010
Not "Just A Mom"
I am not a stay-at-home mom. I do, however have all the respect in the world for those that do this for a living. Although I love my children and would die for them, I don't believe that I would be alone in making the guilty confession that I find myself ready to lock myself in a closet and rock after 12 full-blown hours at home with my kids. Taking their little butts to school is nice. Picking them up after school is nice. Weekends are nice. Going back to work on Monday is really nice too. Does this make me a bad mom? I don't think so...
I also don’t think parents should have to choose between staying at home and going back to work when their children are small. I think that the government should have laws and support systems in place to allow a parent to choose to stay at home with their kids. Fortunately I now have a job where I can work in my home. My children are at school so it's quiet, but I can take them and pick them up and be involved in so many things that I couldn't be involved in when I had to clock in to an office from 9:00 a.m. - 5:00 p.m.
Hats off to all you women who do this. I know that it's a full time job and you don't get diddly-squat credit for doing it. So I've posted a story below that I found really cool about being a stay-at-home mom. Hope you enjoy it!
Not Just A Mom
A woman named Emily renewing her driver's license at the County Clerk's office was asked by the woman recorder to state her occupation. She hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself.
"What I mean is," explained the recorder, "do you have a job, or are you just a...
"Of course I have a job," snapped Emily. "I'm a mother."
"We don't list 'mother' as an occupation... 'housewife' covers it," said the recorder emphatically.
I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself in the same situation, this time at our own Town Hall. The Clerk was obviously a career woman, poised, efficient, and possessed of a high sounding title like, "Official Interrogator" or "Town Registrar." "What is your occupation?" she probed.
What made me say it, I do not know... The words simply popped out. "I'm a Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human Relations."
The clerk paused, ballpoint pen frozen in midair, and looked up as though she had not heard right.
I repeated the title slowly, emphasizing the most significant words. Then I stared with wonder as my pronouncement was written in bold, black ink on the official questionnaire.
"Might I ask," said the clerk with new interest, "just what you do in your field?"
Coolly, without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself reply, "I have a continuing program of research, (what mother doesn't), in the laboratory and in the field, (normally I would have said indoors and out). I'm working for my Masters, (the whole darned family), and already have four credits, (all daughters). Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in the humanities, (any mother care to disagree?) and I often work 14 hours a day, (24 is more like it). But the job is more challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers and the rewards are more of a satisfaction rather than just money."
There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk's voice as she completed the form, stood up, and personally ushered me to the door.
As I drove into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career, I was greeted by my lab assistants - ages 13, 7, and 3. Upstairs I could hear our new experimental model, (a 6 month old baby), in the child-development program, testing out a new vocal pattern.
I felt triumphant! I had scored a beat on bureaucracy! And I had gone on the official records as someone more distinguished and indispensable to mankind than "just another mother."
Motherhood...What a glorious career! Especially when there's a title on the door.
Does this make grandmothers "Senior Research Associates in the field of Child Development and Human Relations" and great grandmothers "Executive Senior Research Associates"? I think so!!!
I also think it makes Aunts "Associate Research Assistants".
I also don’t think parents should have to choose between staying at home and going back to work when their children are small. I think that the government should have laws and support systems in place to allow a parent to choose to stay at home with their kids. Fortunately I now have a job where I can work in my home. My children are at school so it's quiet, but I can take them and pick them up and be involved in so many things that I couldn't be involved in when I had to clock in to an office from 9:00 a.m. - 5:00 p.m.
Hats off to all you women who do this. I know that it's a full time job and you don't get diddly-squat credit for doing it. So I've posted a story below that I found really cool about being a stay-at-home mom. Hope you enjoy it!
Not Just A Mom
A woman named Emily renewing her driver's license at the County Clerk's office was asked by the woman recorder to state her occupation. She hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself.
"What I mean is," explained the recorder, "do you have a job, or are you just a...
"Of course I have a job," snapped Emily. "I'm a mother."
"We don't list 'mother' as an occupation... 'housewife' covers it," said the recorder emphatically.
I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself in the same situation, this time at our own Town Hall. The Clerk was obviously a career woman, poised, efficient, and possessed of a high sounding title like, "Official Interrogator" or "Town Registrar." "What is your occupation?" she probed.
What made me say it, I do not know... The words simply popped out. "I'm a Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human Relations."
The clerk paused, ballpoint pen frozen in midair, and looked up as though she had not heard right.
I repeated the title slowly, emphasizing the most significant words. Then I stared with wonder as my pronouncement was written in bold, black ink on the official questionnaire.
"Might I ask," said the clerk with new interest, "just what you do in your field?"
Coolly, without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself reply, "I have a continuing program of research, (what mother doesn't), in the laboratory and in the field, (normally I would have said indoors and out). I'm working for my Masters, (the whole darned family), and already have four credits, (all daughters). Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in the humanities, (any mother care to disagree?) and I often work 14 hours a day, (24 is more like it). But the job is more challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers and the rewards are more of a satisfaction rather than just money."
There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk's voice as she completed the form, stood up, and personally ushered me to the door.
As I drove into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career, I was greeted by my lab assistants - ages 13, 7, and 3. Upstairs I could hear our new experimental model, (a 6 month old baby), in the child-development program, testing out a new vocal pattern.
I felt triumphant! I had scored a beat on bureaucracy! And I had gone on the official records as someone more distinguished and indispensable to mankind than "just another mother."
Motherhood...What a glorious career! Especially when there's a title on the door.
Does this make grandmothers "Senior Research Associates in the field of Child Development and Human Relations" and great grandmothers "Executive Senior Research Associates"? I think so!!!
I also think it makes Aunts "Associate Research Assistants".
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)