Over time, I have compiled a list of things, that regardless of years of marriage or being in a relationship, or even just being around women in general, that men will NEVER come close to understanding; at least not in my experience.
What is it about creatures with vaginas that men find so mystifying? What is it about us that confuses them so?
Is it true that we run off of emotions, and they run off of logic, and because of that- we will never see eye to eye or come to a full and complete understanding of the opposite sex?
Regardless of whether we come from Venus and Men come from Mars- i’m damn tired of explaining the same things over and over again, so here is my top 5 list! See if you agree.
1. Why I don’t wear thongs to bed
As much as I love a good thong under a tight pair of pants that would otherwise show horrendous panty lines- my vag needs some breathing room sometimes, and night time seems to be the best option to do that. The last thing I want is a yeast factory below my belt line. You gotta air that shit out!
Thomas does not get this, and constantly he makes comments about how he I have a “thing” about “nighttime underwear and daytime underwear” as if it’s so weird he just can’t comprehend why I do it.
hey, guy, you have your organs on the OUTSIDE- don’t judge me. You should be thanking me, because otherwise I may have a smell so bad it would prevent you from getting any kind of action.
2. Why I put more makeup on before friends come over
I am ashamed that even Thomas has seem me at my ugliest: roving landbeast status, but i’ll be damned if I let civilians see me that way. I do have SOME dignity left.
Thomas is used to my makeup-less baggy eyed, freckled and blemished face at 7 in the morning- other people are not. And while it’s understandable, as I am a mom of 2 insane little boys- I don’t need anyone else knowing what I look like at my worst. I want people to think i’m the HOT mom… even if i’m not. Get offended all you want, Thomas- you married this! I’m not going to waste time caking on the makeup for you. I don’t walk around in granny panties, sweats, and covered in baby vomit. I look presentable, isn’t that enough after tearing myself in half two times over?
3. Why the brand of tampons matters.
Call me a sadist if you wish for making Thomas go out and buy my tampons for me (or call him a Saint). The way I see it is this: if I go to the store and buy them, the person checking me out will know I have a crime scene going on in my nether region. That is highly embarrassing. If he does? Well, clearly HE’S not going to be using them- so what’s so embarrassing about that?
Even after nearly 5 years of marriage, he does not quite grasp that one size, and one brand, does NOT fit all!
Did you really bring me home scented ULTRA absorbancy tampons? Are you trying to tell me that my snatch not only stinks, but is a huge gaping hole?
I don’t want my lady bits smelling like potpourri, and I do NOT need ultras. And don’t you DARE buy me ANYTHING without an applicator, because even though it’s mine- i’m not sticking my fingers WAY up there when it’s bleeding.
Men don’t understand the difference- I think there should be a class.
4. Why we scold children quietly in public
It’s like telling a kid that there are inside and outside voices. There’s a time and a place for everything- and while we HAVE to discipline our kids while we’re out or they think they can get away with absolutely anything, we SHOULD do it so that no one else can hear.
People stare, and your voice CARRIES- and that shit is EMBARRASSING. I don’t care how much of a dickbag Holden is being, or how much Parker is whining over some toy that Holden won’t share- SHHHHH. Keep it down, or take them outside- but please don’t humiliate me even more.
5. Why I am allowed to complain more than you.
You try spending 24 hours a day, 7 days a week with two screeching demons, and have me come home after being out all day and start to bitch after 2 minutes and see how you feel. Yes, I have it worse. Yes, I have a right to complain and unleash a day’s worth of diarrhea and screaming kids onto you. You? You don’t. Deal with it!
Sorry guys! I have serious respect for all the fathers that change shitty diapers and help out around the house, Thomas sure does- but in the end, women have the lead in the complaining department, if for no reason other than the fact that we sacrificed our minds and our bodies to bring your kids into this world. That along is the trump card, hands down.
So that’s the list- do you agree? Do you have any to add? Share them!
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