The Forrester Sisters had a terrific song out a few years ago, with the best line I've heard in a long time. Men, can't live with 'em, just can't shoot 'em. Ladies, if you've been married for more than a few years, you know what I'm talking about. Oh, it's more than just a Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus thing... hell, sometimes I swear we aren't even part of the same solar system.
The realization dawned on me not too long after the birth of our first child. Now granted, this was almost twenty years ago, and the title of new parent applied as much to my DH (Darling Husband) as it did to any new father, but I remember this one poignant moment like it was yesterday. That day, I asked DH to pack the diaper bag for a family outing we had to attend. It was to be an all day affair and I had errands to run right before we had to leave. I'm sure I don't have to go into detail as to what essentials were missing, just use your imagination and picture your own face when you unzipped the diaper bag at a crucial moment and then needed to explain why more than one diaper was necessary to the skeptical face on the man standing over you.
Fast forward ten years. I'm sitting with a friend at lunch and she relates a story that had me both laughing and shaking my head. The feeling of been there, done that, resonated like church bells on Christmas...not in its specifics, but in the truth of just how 'real' it all is when it comes to the differences between the sexes. She had just come home from a day of errands, leaving her two children home with her DH for the better part of the day. He was in the yard, the house looked like a Nabisco Snack Factory exploded in the kitchen, and the kids were still in their pajamas. Dumbfounded, she walked out the back and ventured the question, "What happened today?"
"Honey, the house is a disaster and the kids are still in their pajamas, what do you think I mean? Did you even give them lunch?" Her voice raising half an octave.
He shook his head.
"Why?" She asked, almost afraid of his answer.
He shrugged. "I wasn't hungry."
We've all had moments like this and the combined experiences have led my sisters and I to coin the acronym, OMC. Oxygen Mask Club. We firmly believe all men belong to this club in varying degrees of membership. But why Oxygen Mask Club? What does oxygen have to do with the differences between the way men and women view the world? It's simple. Picture an airplane. Everyone is seated and awaiting take off and per FAA safety protocol, flight attendants stand mid-aisle giving their pre-flight safety demonstration. At one point they hold up their hand and simulate oxygen masks dropping from ceiling compartments and what do they instruct next? For passengers to always "fit his/her OWN oxygen mask BEFORE assisting anyone else."
Need I say more?
While most men, my DH included, are loving, caring, responsible men who would give their lives for their families, they are nonetheless connected at different times, in one way or another, with the OMC. So, the next time your DH leaves you with an expression of stunned disbelief, just laugh and remember he may be a charter member of the club. I swear some days my own is the Grand Poo-bah of them all, but I love him dearly, regardless. ;)
Originally posted on my blog 'Madcap Moms...What's Wrong with this Picture' April 23, 2012