I love women. There's no doubt about it. God knows I do. My kindergarten teacher knew I did. I kept winking at her. The first nurse to touch my freshly oiled baby skin knew I did. No comment, but I gave her the stiff one-eye for slapping me on the buttocks so my Mom could hear me cry from across the hall. Yes, her son's lungs were fully operational (then). But what if I had been a girl?
If you're a
woman, let me tell you I love you more than I love gardening or my DVD
collection or my mother's cousin's stepdaughter's money. Or bold type.
I love the way women write little hearts in their love letters to me, the way
they keep their legs crossed even when no one is watching or when it's really
hot. I love their brains—and I mean that in a non-zombie-foot kind of way. I
love how women think and the astounding inefficiency of their same-sex
communication (girl-girl talk, that's right). But what if I were a woman?
Just thinking about it gives me the creeps. No offence. Let's see. To begin
with... Any guy who says, 'Honey, where's my dinner?' would be punched in the nose and
kicked in the you-know-where-it-hurts, you little ding-dong. I'd send his ass straight to his
Momma.
If I were a woman, would I be sensitive? (Are women sensitive?)
Would I shave my legs?
Would I wax?
Would I use moisturizer?
Would I need make-up?
Would I want to get pregnant and dream of babies?
What do you mean tampons?
Would I allow a guy to climb Mount Blue?
Would I feel like a cheap car? (Sure, fill her up!)
HAR!!
Would I hate men for ruling the world?
Would I despise their shortsightedness, the guns and bombs?
Would I hate them for calling women whores when all they did was go on
another date without wanting to get married?
Would I feel less important than men and blame my mother for not having
made a difference?
Would I hate men for not taking me seriously?
Would I feel like an object?
Would I hate everybody for making me feel old?
I have no idea, but what I do know is this: if I had a daughter, I would
teach her to take no shit from any guy. I would buy her that pony she'd always
wanted but she'd have to take karate lessons first. I would tell her she wasn't
born to be somebody's husband and have his babies while he feels too important
to clean the house or cook for her. I would tell her to be independent. I would
tell her she comes first.
That's what I would do.
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