Blue Balls

I once read a theory that men prefer strident noises and firm hand shakes. That they are better at solving technical problems than women, and like the color red.

I would like to take a moment to prove this theory wrong! My basis for proving it's falsehood.  Just a simple day in the life of a wife and mommy.

Here goes:

 If men were better at solving "technical" problems. Why oh why can't they figure out how to put the damn roll of toilet paper on the holder?  Do you think if I left a "technical" manual, of how to do it , it would help?  Also, and forgive me for going here ladies, but I feel I must.  Why is it impossible to get everything that is suppose to be in the toilet...In the toilet?  This is technical.  A technical act.  In fact not getting it in is a "TECHNICAL FOUL" if you ask me.

My husband, will not leave a pick up game of basketball, against 8th graders at the park, until every basket has been made, and every shot has been hit.  Getting the same, point, aim and shoot determination into our toilet...Never.  Not once.    He has yet to make his business land in the toilet with no extra parting gifts left around the rim for yours truly, in 10 plus years.

You'd think I would be use to it, or at least know it's coming when I lift that porcelain SOB to clean.  Nope! Shocks me every time!   I still have the same "UHHHH" body jerking backwards reaction, like I just saw an alien pop out of the toilet,  followed by gagging sounds, then curse words, then sheer wonderment of how the hell "It" got "There" and how it's all even physically possible.

Today while cleaning the bitch, I had a vision of all wives, moms of boys, and anyone else who has the great pleasure of cleaning the bowl.  Clad in there ginormous yellow rubber gloves, (I mean whose hands are that big Rubbermaid?) Toilet bowl cleaner wands in hand,  marching up the steps of the White House, protesting poops and penis's!   News papers would read, today in history women decided they deal with enough shit already!

After my day dream, and a long shower,  I drifted back into my proving this men theory wrong, and thought about the strident noise part.

If men like strident noises so much, how it is that no matter how hard or loud the baby cries in the middle of the night, they don't seem to hear it?  They can sleep right though it. Not even a one eyed peek.

If they like loud noises so much, how come when I yell out real loud for help with the groceries, I still get nothing? No movement, no response. As a matter of fact, I usually have to follow it up with another, louder request, and then maybe I get  a "Oh, sorry I didn't hear you."

So far this theory is for shit.

Lastly, I would like to touch upon the color theory. Truly the real reason I started to write this blog today.

While having a seemingly innocent conversation with my son, at a place called, "The Playhouse". Which is exactly that, a giant play house for kids.  My son was frolicking through the ball pit, delighted to be throwing his body across the balls instead of watching mommy clean the toilet.   I decided it was a perfect opportunity to continue with our practicing of colors lesson.  The ball pit was filled with red and blue balls. You see where I am going?

There I was, ever so sweet, enjoying my doting mom moment. Thinking how brilliant I was to turn fun time into learning time. When I started to explain, slow and loud  "This is a BLUE BALL...Blue balls, these are BUUU-HUU-LUUE BALLS." "Can you say, BLUE BALLS?"   "Try it with mommy." "Buuu-luuue Baaaa-hhaaallllll-sssss."

My son repeated, "Bew Bawls!" "Bew Bawls" over and over and over again! YAAAAAYYYYY" In my high pitch ecstatic mommy voice, I started to cheer and reply, "Very Good Jack." "Blue Balls!" Clapping and jumping the entire time.

It never even dawned on me, that besides the fact it truly was a BLUE BALL, this conversation had any other meaning.  That was until the man, who was sitting across the ball pit with his daughter, started laughing and grunting under his breath, (which I clearly heard) "..Heh Heh ...Blue Balls" like he was Bevis or But head or something. Clearly amused by my little fopar.

For a split second I thought maybe he was laughing at the way I said balls.  No matter how hard I try to lose my NY accent, balls is still a tough one. Then I realized there was no laughter upon my "RED BALLS" lesson.   Just blue!!!

Yet again, helping me prove just how wrong that stupid guy theory is.  Clearly the color "BLUE" had more of an impact on this man then red.

I rest my case, and my dignity today.