Understanding Women

A man was walking along a California beach and stumbles upon an old lamp half-hidden in the sand. He picked it up, rubbed it and out popped a genie. The genie said, “OK, OK. You released me from the lamp. I see that you are a male and this fact is going to make it harder for me, but tell me your wish and I will try to grant it. You only get one wish…forget about getting three which only applies to the female race. Now, tell me. What is it?”

The man thought about it awhile and said, “I’ve always wanted to go to Hawaii, but I’m afraid to fly across the ocean on a plane and I get very seasick whenever I’m in a boat. Could you build a bridge to Hawaii so I can drive over there?”

The genie laughed and said, “Are you crazy? That’s impossible. Just think of the logistics of building a bridge like that. How would the supports ever reach the bottom of the Pacific Ocean? Think of how much steel I would need! No. Think of another wish.”

The man thought long and hard before he came up with another idea…a really good wish. Finally, he said, “I wish I could understand women—know how they feel and what they are thinking, understand why they cry and why they laugh. I want to know what they really want when they say ‘nothing’ and how to make them truly happy.”

The genie paused for a few minutes and then answered, “Do you want that bridge to have three lanes or six?”

Yup, we women are indeed a curious lot. I am saying that because I am one. My late husband could have told you that what “worked” for me yesterday would be out of the question today. He would see me crying and wonder if my tears were out of happiness or sadness. I happen to be one who cries for both reasons.

Actually, we are a lot like chameleons, a unique lizard that changes its skin color to blend in with its surroundings. I have heard such comments as, “Why on earth did you invite your cousin Sybil for a visit? You said she treated you like dirt the last time you were together.” Or “Why did you accept the invitation from the new neighbors to go to Mt. Magazine? You know you are scared to death of heights?” I would usually give over-worked reasons such as, “But I want them to like me” or “I didn’t want to hurt their feelings!”

These little lizards also change color when they are angry or fearful. I enter the back door, notice a distinctive handprint, and my face turns beet red as my husband utters, “Well, you said the new paint on the cabinet door should be dry by now. My face once turned totally pale when I heard this news from Melissa, “Mom, I met this guy this afternoon who is really cool and—guess what?—he has a really fast motorcycle!”

Now, if we ever have a woman ruling the world, there will be a lot of changes in store which will make life easier for the rest of the fairer sex. For instance…

Men who design women’s shoes would be forced to wear them. The same goes for men who designed those pull-down plastic produce sacks at the grocery store. The inventor should be on stand-by to open them themselves and, therefore, shave off thirty minutes of my shopping time.

Men would bring Cokes, chips and dip to women watching soap operas.

Men would realize that a mere ‘spritz’ is enough of that new cologne they received at Christmas. It is not necessary to use ounces at a time, especially when they refuse to social distance.

Men would sit around and wonder what we’re thinking.

All toilet seats would be nailed down.

In all fairness, I do realize we make it hard on our male counterparts. We often play coy while upset about something we have no courage to admit. It is as if we are inwardly thinking, “If you really want to understand me, hear not only what I am saying, but what I am not saying and what I may never be able to say.”

Now, I would like to close this petty, little piece with a remembered quote from President Lyndon B. Johnson—“Only two things are necessary to keep one’s wife happy. One is to let her think she is having her own way. The other is to let her have it.”

Don’t bother to write me about my choice of title. I do realize it is an oxymoron!

Brenda Miles is an award-winning columnist and author formerly of La Grange, now living in Hot Springs Village. She responds to comments sent to brenstar@att.net.