The Thing About Men
So I finished sleeve #1 on the top-down and did exactly what any knitter with her brain cells still functioning would do: I made Goldisox try the sweater on.
Here is what happened.
ME: I finished the first sleeve!
HIM: Great!
ME: Now you have to try it on.
HIM: It only has one sleeve.
ME: (practically levitating with excitement) I already said that. Come on! Try it on.
HIM: (looking both puzzled and perplexed) I can't try it on.
ME: Why not?
HIM: (with a definite "duh" in his tone) Because it only has one sleeve.
ME: (trying to keep the #*@*^# out of my tone) Don't you want to make sure the first sleeve is long enough before I start the second one?
Now that bit of logic apparently satisfied the engineer in him (and here's a factoid you might not know: a high percentage of romance writers are married to or partnered with a high percentage of engineer/scientist types) and he grudgingly rose from the couch and pulled on the sweater.
Picture him standing there, all 6'3" of him scrunched down to about five-ten, bent over and hunched like Quasimodo with cramps.
ME: Stand up straight! What's wrong with you?
HIM: (my brilliant, multi-degreed spouse) It only has one sleeve.
This affects equilibrium? This affects posture?
ME: Will you quit with the one sleeve thing. Just pretend it has two sleeves and let me see how it fits.
It fit. It fit perfectly. The lone sleeve was exactly the right length.
It's been two days or so and I swear to you he's still recovering from the trauma.
The man has an imagination. I know he has. I've seen it in action. He loves science fiction and fantasy. It wouldn't surprise him if we had Martian ancestors. But ask him to try on a one-sleeved sweater and I swear to you his brain was one paired decrease away from imploding.
A woman can hold a dress STILL ON THE HANGER in front of her and know if it'll work. The man I live with can't tell you if he likes a sweater if--
Wait. Here's how that particular drama played out back when I was trying to settle on which sweater pattern to use.
ME: So what do you think about this sweater?
HIM: (taking a look) It's green.
ME: (waving away the comment) I know it's green. What do you think about the pattern?
HIM: I don't know. I can't get past all that green.
ME: (who should know better; we've been married since we were children) Forget the green. Pretend it's [insert appropriately dull, unobtrusive, manly color here].
HIM: I can't.
ME: You can't pretend away the green?
HIM: Nope.
I've seen him work complex problems that would make my brain implode but the man couldn't (not even if his life depended on it) see the forest for the trees. The green trees.
Are we alone out here in Crazy Land or do we have company?
Here is what happened.
ME: I finished the first sleeve!
HIM: Great!
ME: Now you have to try it on.
HIM: It only has one sleeve.
ME: (practically levitating with excitement) I already said that. Come on! Try it on.
HIM: (looking both puzzled and perplexed) I can't try it on.
ME: Why not?
HIM: (with a definite "duh" in his tone) Because it only has one sleeve.
ME: (trying to keep the #*@*^# out of my tone) Don't you want to make sure the first sleeve is long enough before I start the second one?
Now that bit of logic apparently satisfied the engineer in him (and here's a factoid you might not know: a high percentage of romance writers are married to or partnered with a high percentage of engineer/scientist types) and he grudgingly rose from the couch and pulled on the sweater.
Picture him standing there, all 6'3" of him scrunched down to about five-ten, bent over and hunched like Quasimodo with cramps.
ME: Stand up straight! What's wrong with you?
HIM: (my brilliant, multi-degreed spouse) It only has one sleeve.
This affects equilibrium? This affects posture?
ME: Will you quit with the one sleeve thing. Just pretend it has two sleeves and let me see how it fits.
It fit. It fit perfectly. The lone sleeve was exactly the right length.
It's been two days or so and I swear to you he's still recovering from the trauma.
The man has an imagination. I know he has. I've seen it in action. He loves science fiction and fantasy. It wouldn't surprise him if we had Martian ancestors. But ask him to try on a one-sleeved sweater and I swear to you his brain was one paired decrease away from imploding.
A woman can hold a dress STILL ON THE HANGER in front of her and know if it'll work. The man I live with can't tell you if he likes a sweater if--
Wait. Here's how that particular drama played out back when I was trying to settle on which sweater pattern to use.
ME: So what do you think about this sweater?
HIM: (taking a look) It's green.
ME: (waving away the comment) I know it's green. What do you think about the pattern?
HIM: I don't know. I can't get past all that green.
ME: (who should know better; we've been married since we were children) Forget the green. Pretend it's [insert appropriately dull, unobtrusive, manly color here].
HIM: I can't.
ME: You can't pretend away the green?
HIM: Nope.
I've seen him work complex problems that would make my brain implode but the man couldn't (not even if his life depended on it) see the forest for the trees. The green trees.
Are we alone out here in Crazy Land or do we have company?
posted by Barbara Bretton at 9:16 AM
11 Comments:
LOL!! This is hilarious and so typically male.
ROFL! This is SO "guy"! It's just like the times when you ask your husband to hold your purse for a minute. Now my bag happens to be a totally innocuous black leather "back bag" which in fact a man could theoretically use. My DH, however, holds it at arm's length from his body, upside down and backwards, just to show everyone IT DOESN'T BELONG TO HIM. Then it serves him right when a tampon falls out of the side pocket and rolls around at his feet. (You should have seen his face when that happened!)
Hallelujah! I'm not alone!!
Nancy, I carry a huge hot pink suede shoulder bag that seriously tests the bonds of our marriage every time I ask him to hold it for me. I could carry my great big dark brown suede shoulder bag but that wouldn't be half as much fun.
So, so true - unfortunately. My mathematician husband - who wants a RED sweater - cannot look at any other color sweater, and see anything, except that it is not red! Can anyone compute that for me?
Barbara, you are EVIL. :-)
My kids were like that when I would sew for them. They would turn down pattern after pattern, until I finally realized it was the fabric in the picture they were having a problem with. I had a hard time convincing them that we could make it in whatever fabric they wanted. And the sleeve thing, I had the same problem with my son last week. Must be something on the Y chromosome.
There is an advantage to having a color-blind sweetie.... He can't tell it's Green.
This is so typical!
But you know, I have to confess that when flipping through knitting mags, I'll stop on the pages with the purple sweater/scarf/etc. every time. Color is powerful, even for those of us who have learned to see beyond it.
In Defense of Himself:
It was green!!! And it was injured, missing an appendage as it were.
My guy is a rocket scientist - really - I love introducing him as one - and isn't very good at abstract thought. We've been through the "(me)what do you think of this sweater pattern? "(him)I don't like blue" stages to finally "I would like a grey sweater like this one but with a dark grey stripe". He went so far as to pick out the yarn. I'm floored.
I made the mistake of making him a pair of socks. He's going to go sock yarn shopping soon. By himself - he doesn't like the handpaints I've picked out for myself.
All this is ok until he wants to learn how to knit. I draw the line at sharing my stash.
My hubby just sighs when I ask him to try something on. He knows that it's not usually destined to be his. "Try on this mitten, and tell me if it's about time to start the finger shaping. But don't let the baby drool on it, it's alpaca." "I want a pair of these, too...." "Maybe next year for Christmas. Those are for your dad since he injured his hand and the poor circulation makes his hands cold. Your mom asked me to knit them for him." "If he doesn't like them, I want them....." "Besides, I knit you the bed socks you wanted and you never wear them. Or the scarf I knit for you that you wanted." "The guys on the ship would take them if I did!" (He's in the Navy and in his defense, the guys on the ship probably would take them. Or machine wash them with bleach.) He might get some more socks for Christmas. ;)
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