|Wife:||Do you see the trash can?|
|Husband:||Which trash can?|
|Wife:||The overflowing one.|
|Husband:||Oh, that one.|
|Wife:||Think you want to take it out?|
|Husband:||You mean, like to the curb? Why didn’t you just say so?|
At times, I can be oblivious. Imagine my surprise when my male neighbors told me just how normal I am because they too can look past the obvious. Who knew that by comparing notes I could have such a cathartic experience?
One spoke of a dog who had an accident in the house. Upon coming home from work, he walked right by it. Didn’t notice a thing. However, when his wife came home – it was the first thing she noticed. Another spoke of this magical “diaper genie” in his house that makes soiled diapers permanently disappear. That is, until you come home and your wife is holding a bag resembling Chernobyl waste asking, “Well, didn’t you smell it?” Which, if we were honest, no, we didn’t. We weren’t trying to be thick but we really did miss it.
My contribution… and if you’re a guy (a dude) see if you can find where I got myself into danger.
The other day I rode down “Independence HILL” road (emphasis mine). Around here, if the word “hill” is part of the name you can be assured it’s in there for a reason. As my speedometer hovered around 49 mph, I experienced quite a rush of adrenaline. Time slowed. I was able to solve complex math problems. The world was a much clearer place.
Coming home in my new found euphoric state I shared my new land speed record with my wife as though this was a good thing. Apparently, it wasn’t. I was asked only one question, “Which was more of a bad idea? Doing it or telling me that you did it?” I don’t know about you but I’ve never liked story problems. Who really cared if the train from Boston reached NY first? Oblivious to the imminent danger I was in, I tried to explain my way out of it. And for the record, bluffing sometimes works. However, this was not one of those times.
Apparently this was a bad thing. I was ok. The bike was ok. The world was ok. But somehow I’d gotten something wrong. All those past story problem tests came back to me. I was sure that stupid train from Boston should have gotten there first.
As I related my bike story, all of the men knowingly nodded their heads as they knew my tale wasn’t going to end well. It was at that moment we decided that not admitting anything was a much better way to go. And for the most part, that really isn’t far from the truth because most men truly don’t notice. We don’t mean any harm, we’re just wired for obliviousness.
It’s our superpower. Our gift. We are able to “miss” it on a moment’s notice. You mean we weren’t supposed to eat the dessert in the fridge? I didn’t see a note on it. Red light officer? What light? Speed limit? Really? Did I get the report done on time? You mean there was a deadline? No kidding. All we need is a cape and our superpower could be on display for the world to to admire. Or, as my wife would say, “it already is dear.”