And I stood there, in the rain. You couldn’t see where my tears started and the rain ended on my cheeks. It almost felt like a movie. I pretended it was for a split second. And you spilled such lovely words, words that I had wanted to hear for a long time. I believed they were real, a real part of the script. And then you walked away.
You were such a great actor.
Why Making a Sandwich For a Guy Isn’t That Bad
Every day in elementary school, my mom made my lunch. I loved going to class and seeing what was inside my Lisa Frank lunch pail. Typically, there was a fruit, a vegetable, a tasty dessert, and a sandwich. Most kids would get excited about the dessert! But, my mom had a magical way with sandwiches that made eating them feel just right. If it was a PB&J, there was a perfect ratio of creamy goodness to sticky fun. Or when it came to the turkey sandwich, it was cut so well that the layers of the sandwich almost looked too good to eat.
But, on the days that my dad made my lunches, I remember always trying to trade my food. I am not saying that my dad wasn’t a good lunch packer because surely he was qualified (after all, he was my dad!) but something about my sandwich lacked that special attention, that love, that perfect touch….
And that is where my story begins…. why is making a sandwich for a guy (or anyone for that matter) a big deal when you’re a woman? I don’t know why people get so bent out of shape with such a simple request. Do we call our mothers, sisters, or girl friends to come fix our cars, that toilet that won’t flush, or haul that really heavy box out of your room? Most of us probably will say no. Do we see those men in our lives pulling the “sexist card” when we ask for these specific requests? Rarely. (I have yet to find a man to reject my proposal of doing my oil since they think it makes them a hero or something…)
Really my main point is that we ask people to do something (in this case, what appears to be a gender request) based on how well we know they can do it! All of those jokes about women in the kitchen or men outside… well quite frankly I don’t give a fuck. If I’m good at it, why should I be offended? My PB&J makes all the boys come to my yard! Society has made us believe that requests that seem to fit our gender roles are wrong. I am not saying that I can’t fix my own flooding toilet, but I definitely will call up someone who is more qualified before I potentially flood my whole basement! And to support my case, the majority of people I know with expertise are male figures. The challenge is to think less along the lines of “well you’re a male/female and this is what you do” and more like “this is who I feel is more qualified”.
So, ladies, before you go complain about him asking for a sandwich because it’s “sexist” think about it… imagine if a man got butt hurt about you asking him to fix/move/lift/build something… let’s see who is worse off: him without his sandwich or you without your tuttering car.
It is both a blessing
and a curse
to feel everything
so very deeply.