In the words of Michael Scott, “I’ve had an epiphery…”
Women need men. That it, make no bones about it – We do.
Yes, you have your groups of women who proudly proclaim, “I don’t need a man!” You know what – They can say that, but let me tell you something independent ladies – We need those mofos around. I’m not going to get all deep on you, talking about soul mates and whatnot – Just give me a chance to lay down the hard facts.
The Bosslady hard facts…
We need men for:
A) Laying down mouse traps and getting rid of mice carcasses. When those little furry mofos get stuck in traps, or their little heads are snapped clear off, you need a man around to get rid animal parts. You’re squeamish… You know the mouse is dead, but sometimes you imagine it coming back as a zombie with super strength. True story…
B) changing your curtains and light bulbs – Because you’re short and the only time you want to throw your hands in the air like you just don’t care is in the club. He’s taller – Let him do it.
C) Wielding a bat in case of intruders. You do not have the strength to swing a bat and hit an intruder in the Solar Plexus – plus you’ll fall apart should that situation present itself. You’re probably the chick who sends her young son downstairs to check noises…
What – OK, that was me… It wasn’t my proudest moment, no…
D) Eating your baked goods. Men don’t diet; at least not publicly – And that is reason enough to have them around.
When you say to him;
“I’d love to capture autumn…In a cookie… I’m going to dice some apples… Perhaps I’ll cream butter and brown sugar – No, not the D’Angelo song, the stuff we used to sweeten (Sheesh!)… There’s going to be flour laced with fall spices – Cloves, nutmeg and cinnamon – Lots of cinnamon. It’s all going in there. And raisins – We gotta have raisins. I’m going to mix this up and the best cookie dough you’ve ever tasted will be dropped on cookie sheets. Then I’m going to bake these yummy balls of dough until they’re nice, round and puffy, and the house smells like a holiday Glade plugin.”
He (the man) will nod enthusiastically (bless his simple heart), and come to you with an eager face, plate in hand. He’ll shove 4 cookies in his mouth back to back before they’ve even cooled – And though his tongue is peeling, he yells out, “WOW – Rif if relishush!!” in an eerily accurate impression of Astro the Dog.
Ladies, face it – We need men around. If only to throw away dead mice carcasses, change the curtains, protect you from intruder maniacs and eat your cookies; cookies that taste just like autumn, if autumn were a flavor.
Let it go… Tell him you need him, because hot dammit – You do… Give your man a hug and tell him how much you appreciate having him around. Give him another cookie – Then hand him a broom and ask him to get rid of that spider in the ceiling… Its cuh-reeping you out…