I like women. I’m in love with one. I find women endlessly fascinating but I have never understood them and I probably never will. The way their logic works totally confounds me. The way they can remember something you did or didn’t do or something you did or didn’t say eons in the past will always be my downfall and I suspect that this applies to men all over the world and possibly all over the Universe. After all men always say things they shouldn’t:
“Does my bum look big in this?”
“Er. Now you mention it, yes it does.”
“Are you saying I’ve got a big arse you bastard?” And so on.
Or “You haven’t told me you love me for 4 days, 16 hours, 12 minutes and 38 seconds. Don’t you love me anymore?” Or “16 years ago you said you would paint the fence. Have you?” You all know what I mean.
A while ago, I was driving to work one night when PIL sent me a text. “Where is the big box of kitchen matches?” Even though it was a short text it was very apparent she had the hump about something. I replied, “They’re in the kitchen cupboard where you keep the sultanas.” “No they’re not” came back almost immediately. “That’s the last place I saw them. Are you sure?” “Yes I am. Don’t worry yourself, I’ll go and get another box tomorrow.” Jeeeez, she was ticked off about something.
All the time I was at work that evening I thought about this. I was convinced I was right and I started to feel quite pleased with myself. So when I got home in the early hours I checked the cupboard where the sultanas were kept and lo and behold, right at the front was the big box of kitchen matches. Yes! Result. I checked it wasn’t a new box just in case. It wasn’t.
The next morning the first thing I did when I got up was say to PIL, “Come with me.” PIL followed me out to the kitchen and with a flourish and a fanfare from the trumpeters I just happened to have in my pocket, I flung open the cupboard door and said, “Tadaa! Matches. Sultana cupboard.”She glanced at the cupboard, fixed me with a steely gaze that started to turn me into a pillar of stone and said,”They’re raisins. The sultanas are in that other cupboard.” Then she flounced out again leaving me standing there with my chin on the floor and totally speechless.
Like I’ve said before, women are an alien species and they will always have an answer to everything. Don’t even think about getting into an argument with them because you will never win. You have been warned.
Have a great day.
Woman is made by Adam’s Rib. and i believe on my experience that they have inherited feature of Ribs . it not straight there is a Bend. so you cant straighten them and if you try it will break. so we have to live with it As it is 🙂
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In other words then mate, us blokes don’t stand a chance?