|
Weekly Newspaper and Travel Guide
for Pecos Country
of West Texas
Opinion
Friday, March 28, 2008
Sage Views
By Smokey Briggs
The Man –Woman
communication gap
Do you ever wonder if men and women actually speak the same language?
I ‘m beginning to think, “not so much.”
I know — the words are the same. A man and woman can technically both read this column.
But somehow, after nearly 17 years of marriage to She-who-must-be-obeyed, and regular interactions with other members of the female species, I’m thinking that women are issued a separate, secret definition for many words.
Nothing else really explains the gap in male-female communication that I have often observed – and usually suffered the consequences of from the confines of the dog’s house.
For example, last fall I came home from a tough day at the salt mine and SWMBO was watering her trees.
Obviously, she had been working hard all day. She was dressed for work. She was wearing a great big hat, baggy trousers tucked into muddy boots, and a ragged, long-sleeve shirt.
Mud and manure were a liberal part of the outfit. Makeup had definitely not been part of the day’s routine.
And, she was beautiful in a rustic, sweaty, flush-faced kind of way.
Really.
So, I said so.
I said, “Darling, for a gal that doesn’t work at it very hard, you are gorgeous,” and gave her a peck on the cheek.
Now, I’m a born romantic. I cannot help it. After such a touching remark communicating my overall appreciation of her beauty even in her present unkempt state, I figured she would swoon into my arms, and favor me with a kiss.
Instead, I got an icy stare and a cold shoulder.
Not understanding this strange reaction I delved into my sensitive side and asked, “Is everything okay, Sugar? Did you burn supper?”
Seriously, what other evil event not involving an ambulance could make a wife react like this?
The air around me turned so cold that ice crystals formed on the peach tree I was standing by.
Being no dummy, I made a hasty retreat, and I was pretty sure supper would be an unrecognizable lump of charcoal.
So, the other day, SWMBO spent most of the day working on the new pigeon coop with Ruby, our oldest.
SWMBO is now about four months from her domino date with Number Four, and is hefting around a little extra poundage as pregnant women do.
That night, she commented that her legs were sore from going up and down the stepladder, and she seemed a little surprised.
“Of course you are sore sweetheart. If somebody suddenly hung 40 pounds around my gut, and I went about my regular day, I would probably get sore too,” I said. “That’s a lot of weight to lug around.”
Okay, now, did everybody hear the same thing? That was a simple observation, nothing more. Simple science. Applied physics. More weight, same leg muscles equals sore muscles.
Apparently, SWMBO heard something else because the room temperature dropped 20 or 30 degrees and all three of our girls, demonstrating amazing survival skills, suddenly vanished after flashing the “have you lost your mind?” look at Dad.
Even little, two-year-old Dixie gave me the look as she scampered for safety.
(So it seems that girls receive these alternate definitions from a very early age.)
“What?” I asked SWMBO’s backside as it disappeared through the door.
Recent experience has convinced me that pregnancy somehow intensifies these alternate definitions to normal words, as my ability to communicate with SWMBO appears to be inversely proportional to the length of her pregnancy.
The other day, I noticed that SWMBO was developing more pronounced curves in lots of the right places as her body makes all the necessary preparations for motherhood.
Now, I’m not stupid and I’m beginning to learn some of the alternate, insane, female definitions. From the stepladder conversation I learned that pregnant women do not hear normal words when their weight is involved.
So here, I thought, was a great opportunity to give her a little compliment regarding her transformation from a sleek sports car to a nicely appointed Ford F-250 Super duty (A really nice truck, right?)
“Hey Goodlooking,” I said with my nearly-patented-raised-eyebrow-stud-look, “You know that old song about a ‘Brick House?’” “That’s you,” I said with a wink.
Carson Mae, seven, was sitting on the couch. Her little head whipped around like she had been bitten and I got the “Nice knowing you Dad” look as she ran for her room.
Despite her quick exit I’m pretty sure she still suffered frostbite to any exposed skin as the room temperature headed for zero.
So, despite careful study, apparently I have not fully deciphered the alternate female definitions of words, and I’m probably doomed to many nights sharing quarters with the dogs.
But, as SWMBO will be pregnant all summer, I think I have discovered a cool benefit to the male-female language gap.
Instead of firing up the air conditioner as the temps rise, I can just attempt to give SWMBO a compliment.
It is going to be a long, cold summer.
Return to top
Pecos Enterprise
York M. "Smokey" Briggs, Publisher
324 S. Cedar St., Pecos, TX 79772
Phone 432-445-5475, FAX 432-445-4321
e-mail news@pecos.net
Associated Press text, photo, graphic, audio and/or video material shall not be published, broadcast, rewritten for broadcast or publication or redistributed directly or indirectly in any medium.
Copyright 2003-04 by Pecos Enterprise
|
