
I once saw a bit of graffiti scrawled on a bog wall which read ‘women’s logic is like a stick with three ends’. It’s an observation that I’ve found increasingly difficult to challenge over the years.
Now Mrs K is the absolute light of my life. She’s smart, sassy, kind and caring, and an absolute honey. But Christ, the logic of her ‘logic’ can take a bit of keeping up with. It’s as though she goes from ‘a’ to ‘e’ without the benefits of points ‘b’, ‘c’ and ‘d’ in between; an ‘I went to the shops to buy a blouse, but I saw some shoes so I bought a hairdryer’ sort of thing.
Take yesterday. She was off to the salon to get her hair, eyebrows and nails done. ‘I’ll be some time’ she trills (no shit Sherlock), ‘as I’m going to Morrison’s as well to get some gluten free bread’. ‘You look lovely, my sweet’ says I, when she duly returns (flattery can get you anywhere). ‘I’ll make sandwiches for lunch’. ‘Oh, I got a couple of bottles of almond liqueur and some gin at the shop’, she replies, ‘but I didn’t get any bread. They wanted £3.50 for it, and it’s only £2.70 in Asda. I’m not giving the bloody robdogs that for it, so I’ll just have crackers’.
‘Hang on’ says I, baffled. ‘You’ve just spent over a hundred notes at the salon, not to mention the money on the booze, but you’ve denied yourself some bread for 80 pence? What kind of logic is that? I’ll never understand how women think’. ‘Humph’, she snorts, that flinty Scots gleam in her eye, ‘well, I’ll remind you of those words the next time you’re pulling my pants down’.
I mean, huh? Wtf? I quickly fathomed that this was going to be one of those ‘men are from Mars, women are from Venus’ exchanges that go absolutely nowhere, so I retreated to the kitchen to make the lunch.
So is this an obtuse tactic that women deliberately deploy to keep us off balance, or are the little darlings actually just daft as a fucking brush? Buggered if I know.
Nominated by: Ron Knee