My wife and I sometimes wonder whether we aren’t really of opposite genders from what our respective anatomies would suggest.
It isn’t just the fact that she’s the one who goes to work and I’m the one who stays home with the kids and does nearly all the cooking, laundry, etc. It’s also the fact that if something breaks and needs to be fixed, she’s usually the one who figures out how to do it, becuase I’m usless at that sort of thing. She’s the one who had posters of Led Zeppelin and Kiss in her room as a kid, while I’m the one who had a toy tea set. My parents used to joke that I’d make a good wife for somebody someday, and I’ve been told by numerous people through the years that I have some vaguely girlish mannerisms. She, on the other hand, is a Renaissance Faire dork (generally a very male thing, I’ve noticed) who currently counts the very guy-ish Big Bang Theory among her favorite TV shows.
For further evedince, here’s the following conversation from tonight:
Me: There’s an Ani DiFranco concert on PBS tonight.
Me: An Ani DiFranco concert.
Me: Ani DiFranco.
Her: Who’s that?
Me: You’re kidding, right?
At any rate, now that the Ani DiFranco show is over, I will go reclaim my manhood by watching playoff ice hockey. I hope the Ducks rip Detroit apart. There, I feel much manlier now.