A while back, (before GPS), my brother, Billy and I met in Denver, where I was going to run in the Boulder Bolder. I flew in from Texas and he flew in from California. After we both arrived, we rented a car and off we went to make our way to my mother-in-law’s home in Loveland, where we were staying. We might have gone by way of the race track. I don’t remember. Anyway, I was the driver and Billy was the map reader.
About thirty minutes into our drive, we realized we were lost. Billy suggested we pull over and figure out where we went wrong. I thought that meant we would take a look at the map and together determine the best way to get where we were going.
I forgot my brother is just like most guys I know. He spent the next several minutes trying to figure out who’s fault it was that we were lost. Did he read the map wrong, or did his sister make an unauthorized turn?
Finally, I said, “Billy, we don’t have to figure out who’s fault it is. We’re not married.” For some reason, that made sense to him and the remainder of the trip went great!
These two pictures were both taken during that trip to Denver. In the 2nd picture, Billy is hunting for our car after the race.
A friend of mine and her husband were on an RV trip and found themselves in a lumberyard and there was no place to turn around. They had to back up, which can be extremely difficult if you’re towing a 32′ motor home. She swore she had nothing to do with it and he must have agreed because he blamed it on the dog. They had to find a place for her to go potty…fast!
It was tough for me when we became empty nesters. Oh, of course I missed the kids, but it wasn’t long before I realized I was the only one to blame when a tool was missing or someone had eaten the last of Kip’s M & M stash. The dogs couldn’t even help me out with those two. There were times when things happened that maybe, possibly, were the fault of someone else who lived at our house.
Sometimes, it is impossible to tell who is at fault and I think it’s a waste of time to try to figure it out. I’ve started to say things like, “I might have been sleepwalking and hid your favorite pen, but I have no idea where I put it. Have you checked the pocket of the shirt you wore yesterday? I might have put it there.” I love to see the lightbulb go off.
Have you noticed the male species can rarely find anything? My boys were always looking for their shoes. Kip would always say the last time he wore them, he put them in the closet where shoes go when you’re not wearing them. I always asked the boys if they had looked anywhere but on the ceiling.
I hope this blog isn’t construed as male bashing. I’d rather think of it as female enlightenment. I know you must be thinking of your own examples.