Tracy & Terry/Beer vs. Wine: Would a man open a beer, find it unpalatable, dump out half, and open another? Not if he’s a man. A man knows how to commit to a beer. But when it comes to women and wine…whole different tale. They can open a $10+ bottle, sip, crinkle nose, and open another. The other day Tracy came over to dine with Terry and me, and at the end of the night the score was as follows:
Man: Three cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon. Estimated cost – $3
Two women: Three bottles of wine, two unfinished. Estimated cost – $35
Paternity Test Breast Fest: Evidently, the wine got into the ladies, because they started talking about paternity and so forth, and there I was, a husband-on-the-wall, listening in. All kidding aside, my wife assured me that I was, indeed, the father of my daughters, and then she reflected: “But how do I know I’m really the mother?”
Most Girls Don’t Dig the Superbowl: Last year the family watched the Superbowl at Sanjay and Tracy’s house. As could be expected, the men watched the game while the women drank wine and chatted in the kitchen. Exactly how it should be. You’d think we had a great time, right?
Wrong: Not according to my wife. This year, on the night Tracy and Terry wasted wine, Tracy told me that they were going to have a “Bingo” bet on the Superbowl. I’m not sure what this type of wager’s really called, and I don’t care, but the gist is people pick numbers and if the score at the end of the quarter or game ends on the last digits, you win. Basically, you hope for random chance. The idea was this would interest the women. I told them, “No thanks.” Tracy thought I was a traitor. Terry said, “We’re doing this because last year you guys didn’t pay attention to us and just watched the game. We ladies had a miserable time.” (See previous post about “HyTERRbolY“) So this year everyone put money into “Bingo” Superbowl except me. Rather than get the girls interested it just made for annoying interruptions about, “Let’s see, first quarter score is 9-0, let’s see who has a 9 and…blah bore-biddy blah…” As you can see from the photo above, even with the excitement of “Bingo” Superbowl, the girls didn’t give two poops about the game.Why Not? Sanjay, as mentioned in a previous blog (Who’s Funnier? Sanjay or Christopher Hitchens?…or Women?), is funny, and after meeting his father, Chetan Chopra, I discovered “why.” We’re sitting down to watch the Superbowl and I ask Uncle-in-law Chetan, “So, who’s your team?” He says, “New England.” I say, “Why?” He says, “Many wars have been started because of people asking why.” Huh? Sanjay’s humor, obviously, has been finely honed as a result of growing up amidst non-sequitors.
Asperger’s: Ever since reading Greg Olear’s Fathermucker, a book about a stay-at-home father whose son has Asperger’s, my wife seems to think she has figured out what’s wrong with me. She says, “Check it out, it says Asperger’s syndrome means you have difficulty focusing and paying attention. That’s you!” I said, “Can’t be. I have empathy.” She said, “Well, perhaps you have partial Asperger’s, otherwise known as Pain-in-the-Assperger’s.”