Man Land

Did everyone have a great weekend? I did. Although the weather didn't cooperate always, we did manage to have some sunshine and out door time. My son plays PW7 baseball and had a scrimmage game yesterday afternoon. Being southern, I of course got up and curled my hair for it. I also got hit in the face with a little reality yesterday and it got me to thinking. Oh, shit right? I am the typical mother on the bleachers, screaming her head off during a game. They have had a total of 3 practices and I know every kids name on his team. I know a little over the top, but necessary in my quest to look like the crazy mother. 

As we walked with Ian to the field, we walked into the stands and right then and there I realized that I became the uncool mom. He sees his friends and I don't exist. He entered "man land". Man land you say? Well, let me explain. Men have a different approach than women and it starts at an early age. I noticed a lot of fist to fist contact. What is that? Are they activating special powers? I also saw a group of 7 years all adjusting themselves repeatedly. This apparently starts at birth and doesn't change. I look up and my son is scratching and moving things around the zoo area. I want to yell across the field and tell him that its not going anywhere, to back away from the goober. I don't understand this. Men can walk around adjust, lifting, settling and scratching there stuffs. But if a women walked around doing the same, we would be talked about and bestowed that we have crotch rot. Seriously, I double dog Oreo dare any of you lovelies to go to the mall and walk around and do all of the above and see what reaction you would get. I would personally bust out laughing but I find humor in the strangest things. If anyone stops you just say, I am trying out a new FDS wash and I am pressing the button so I can get a wiff of that fresh spring scent. You know like a Febreeze air freshener. 

Men also have "the greeting." They see each other assume the position with this hand to hand contact like they are about to arm wrestle, move in bump one shoulder with the other hand doing two pats on the shoulder, but far enough away that they don't invade each other's space and ends with "what's up bro?" The answer, "not much bro, just hanging in there." "Yeah, me too". Not women especially southern women. We see a girl that we haven't ran into in ages, run up with our arms wide open and revert to the high pitch hello,    and our language goes from six syllables to ten. "Oh, my gawd, how are uuuuuuuuuuuuu? Look at cheeeewwww? You look so pretty. You are so skinny, I love your hair!" Which means with the bubble above your head, OMG, the last time I saw you, you had a bad Toni home perm, your ass was fat, you had a crater face and drove an ugly car. What man did you marry with money that took you out of the depths of despair? This is all true and you know it. 

Why is man land easier? They can walk into a bathroom with urinals lined against the walls. With the monster hanging out, they pee at the same time and have conversation. Imagine no bathroom stall doors in the women's restroom. Awkward huh? You walk into a toilet for your 9 am poo, another women walks in, sets down beside you. You would be right next to another women in the wide open. You would have to do the only thing necessary. You would have to look at her and say, "look, I just got out of a meeting where I have held this for an hour and drank 3 cups of coffee. Are you gonna drop the kids off at the pool first or am I? And by the way, I sat down before looking and there's no toilet paper, can you hand me some over?" At that point you would have to revert to rock, paper, scissors. Dynamite blows up paper, so let 'er rip. Thank god for stalls and doors. Because normally, you just set there until they leave or repeatedly flush so that person doesn't hear it or one time a lady actually apologized to me for being so loud. See even when we crap, we apologize for it. Men don't, they say, dude that was powerful, laugh and move on.

So, as I realize my son is growing up, he will be a part of the man land club. That's its okay, to scratch, poop openly, fist pump at stupid, have a two second unemotional hug, and marry little Suzy from the trailer park and want to turn her into a trophy wife. He will bring her home for Thanksgiving and I will repeat the cycle..."oh, my gawd, look at cheeeewwww, aren't you just the cutest thing!" When the bubble above my head says, "you hurt my son and you die a slow hard death by a poisoned manicure and bad Toni home perm!"

Have a great Monday!

Dusty