Baby Talk

The first time I saw our oldest daughter, I saw a bald head and heard powerful lungs. She was a loud noise at one end and no responsibility at the other. It was scary. Now I know why they say, “Hold the head.” It’s the safest part. I knew this baby was going to change my life when I asked my mother-in-law to stay over a few extra days just to help us. I didn’t know what to do with my new daughter. By the end of the first day, I was so completely helpless, that I just took her to my mother-in-law. “Here’s your problem,” she said. “This baby’s in serious need of a diaper change.” Looking baffled, I said, “But the package says it’s good for eight to ten pounds!”

Angela had colic so she woke up and cried almost every night. Now what do two mature people, one being a psychologist, do when the baby cries at night? First of all, we would both lie there as long as we could, pretending to be more asleep than the other. She was thinking, “If he were a good husband, he’d get up.” And I was thinking, “If she were a good wife, she’d get up.” So we played that game for a while until we finally had to do something. Obviously, Angela wasn’t just crying, by now she was screaming. Then Penny, because she’s more mature, said something like, “Do I hear Angela crying?” That didn’t mean, “Do I hear Angela crying?” She knew she was crying. That really meant, “Get up and see about Angela.” I knew what she meant but resented her telling me. She reminded me that the night before I had said, “I’ll get it the next time.” I said, “I didn’t mean the next time the baby cried; I meant the next baby.” So we fought over who was going to take care of Angela while she was still crying. We had to learn to communicate.

We had to learn to communicate about Angela, and then we had two more daughters, so we had to get a plan. For the first two, I would get the baby and bring her to Penny. She would change her while I went downstairs to heat the bottle. Then I would bring the bottle to Penny. She would feed her and when she was asleep, I would put her back into the bed. That was a great plan, but Penny nursed our last child so I didn’t have to mess with the bottle. I just had to get the baby. Then we decided since Saturday was the only day we could sleep, we would take turns sleeping in on alternate Saturdays. Of course we had a few misunderstandings about who had slept in the previous Saturday. Since men have amnesia when it comes to remembering anything that doesn’t involve athletic statistics, and Penny can remember not only what time she got up last Saturday but what outfit she was wearing, I think I put in a few more Saturdays than I had coming to me. The bottom line is, we decided to work it out instead of have it out. We decided to talk about it instead of fight about it.

Why is communication so difficult? Consider this: When you were a baby, you had needs that you couldn’t articulate so you didn’t communicate in a positive way. You didn’t say to yourself, “I’m hungry. I’m going to smile when mother comes by and maybe she’ll know I’m hungry and feed me.” Likewise, you couldn’t tell your mother that your diaper needed to be changed. So, when you had a need, you just screamed, and the louder you screamed the quicker she came. You learned that when your needs weren’t met or when you were frustrated, you could act bad, and the worse you acted, the quicker people met your needs.

The same thing happens in marriage. When you are frustrated you provoke the people around you as much as you can so they will meet your needs. You sulk, pout, make cutting remarks, and think that surely someone will come and meet your needs. That’s how infants behave. Let me give you a little rhyme. Before you have a baby in a carriage, you’d better deal with the baby in your marriage. Why? Because two babies married to each other – and then having a baby – make one big mess.

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Conflicting Ways

Been to battle lately? Conflict can actually be good for you. Criticism separates people, but conflict stimulates people. If you ignore things, they build up and get worse. You might as well fight the battle before you have to go to war.

A little boy asked his dad, “How did the war start?” “Which war?” asked his father. “The big war, how did it start?” “Well, it started when Germany invaded Belgium.” His wife interrupted, “That isn’t how the war started. It started when Germany invaded Poland.” He argued, “That’s not right; it was Belgium. I know my history.” She said, “You don’t know history. I’m the one who got you through college.” He said, “You couldn’t get me through anything; you’ve never been right about anything in your life.” They continued to argue back and forth as the boy watched. Finally his father looked at his son and said, “What was your question again?” The little boy said, “Never mind. I know how wars start. They start small but then build up.”

How do little battles lead to a big war? There are different strategies. The first is My Way. This is the most popular. “I am right. Do you agree with me, or are you wrong?” It’s like the lady who prayed at breakfast, “Please make my husband be right today because you know he will never change his mind.” This is the attitude of someone who is always right and must always win. Generally that battle has a winner and a loser.

People often use intimidation instead of negotiation. Their strategy is based on how they won in the past. This method is extremely attractive to males. Men like sports in which the object is to seriously injure the opponent. When you’ve won, you tend to use the strategy over and over.

Some women win by crying. If they don’t win, then they cry and cry again. Men buy things; if they don’t win, they’ll buy, buy again. These methods are inappropriate and neurotic, but they work. People use whatever works for them, whether or not it’s right or wrong.

When Penny and I were first married and we had an argument, I would pretend that I was a lawyer. I had exhibit A and exhibit B. Then I made one big point and looked at Penny and said, “The defense rests.” She looked at me and asked, “Do you know what Capital Punishment is?” I might have won the battle, but I was definitely headed for war.

One strategy for solving conflict is Your Way. At times it is appropriate just to acquiesce to the other person. Some things are not as important to you as they are to your mate. When we moved to Texas, I really wasn’t that concerned with the style of house and what the kitchen looked like. The only thing I wanted was a “split bedroom” model. The master bed and bath were on one end of the house, and the other bedrooms and bathrooms were on the other end. I knew I wanted my girls to be in their bathroom and not in mine. That’s all I cared about and I could yield on everything else such as wallpaper, kitchen, and so forth. It just wasn’t that important.

In a relationship, if you yield, you have to yield with a positive attitude. Some people yield, but do so with gritted teeth. One lady said that living with her family was like living in a foreign mission field, suffering for Jesus. “I give in. I give in. I’m a martyr.” You don’t need to be a martyr or a doormat. You don’t need to be Edith from All in the Family – the classic doormat. In one scene a friend tells Edith, “Of all the people I know, you’re the only one who has a happy marriage.” Edith responds, “Really? Archie and me? Thank you.” “What is your secret?” her friend asks. Edith says, “Oh, I don’t have a secret. Archie and me still have our fights. Of course we don’t let them go on too long. Somebody always says ‘I’m sorry,’ and Archie always says, ‘It’s okay, Edith.’” God put you together so that you can become more than you were when you were apart. At times you’ll need to speak up and at other times give up when something is not as important to you as it is to your spouse.

Another way to solve conflict is Half Way. This is the way most people try to deal with conflict. I give a little, you give a little, and we compromise. The solution is often quicker, but the conflict is sometimes still unresolved.

The last strategy for handling conflict is the Best Way. Make a “we” decision. Decide that together you can make better decisions than you can apart. That means Penny and I decide that we’re going to pray about any problem or decision and talk about it until we both agree on a solution. It may take a little longer, but it’s the smartest thing to do. If I had included Penny in all of my decisions, many things would have worked out better. God puts people together so that we will have another way of looking at things. The “we” decision becomes a good decision and a God decision because you’re getting input from both individuals. Some men don’t profit from this because of ego and pride. I ran across a bumper sticker that illustrated this attitude: “If at first you don’t succeed, do it the way your wife told you to.”

One soldier told Abe Lincoln during the war, “We need to pray that God will be on our side.” Lincoln said, “We had better pray that we are on God’s side.” God doesn’t change sides. So if you’re in a duel and you’d like it to be a duet, consider making it a trio. Get on God’s side and discover that God’s way is the best way.

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Cornbread and Buttermilk

My wife and I are from different backgrounds. Her father is from up north, and my family came from way down south. Also, Penny grew up wealthy, and I grew up poor. Her swimming pool wasn’t heated, but it was a different world. She had four baths, and I had four paths. One year our bathroom caught on fire and we were excited because it didn’t reach the house.

These differences affected our relationship even in what we ate. I didn’t know what I was eating the first few years of marriage, but men will eat most anything. I got nostalgic for my childhood and the foods I ate when I was growing up. I started thinking about cornbread. I wanted cornbread. A man’s ego is very big and he has a hard time sharing his needs. If I asked, “Honey, would you make me cornbread?” she might say, “no”. Men don’t handle rejection well, so I did what most men do. I dropped subtle hints.

We’d go to the grocery store, and I’d hang around the cornbread. I was sure that when Penny found me she’d know I wanted cornbread. But she didn’t know what I was thinking, and finding me she’d ask, “What are you doing?” I’d say, “I’m looking at cornbread.” She would just walk on by. I’d then say, “My goodness, look, Aunt Jemima Cornbread. She makes the best.” She had no respect for Aunt Jemima. I’m thinking I want cornbread! When a cornbread commercial came on the TV, I’d say, “Look, Honey, that’s cornbread,” which she ignored. Finally after about five or six years, I knew the only way to get cornbread was to ask for it.

One day I had one too many Diet Cokes and was a little carbonated, so I got up the courage to say, “Penny, would you make me some cornbread?” She said, “Sure.” That ticked me off because I had waited so long. Then she asked something that scared me. “What is cornbread?” I thought, “I’m in serious trouble here.” She did get my mother’s recipe and made it that day.

She met me at the door with a blindfold. Women do things differently. There are two ways to handle women, but nobody knows either one of them. They like surprises, celebrations, and candlelight. We had candlelight one night and I said, “Honey, what’s the big occasion?” It was the grand opening of the grocery store. She led me to the table blindfolded. “Okay, take the blindfold off.” I ripped that thing off, and I saw the cornbread. I said, “Honey, something’s wrong with the cornbread, you killed it. It’s got red stuff all over it; it’s bleeding. What happened to the cornbread?” She said, “Well, I knew you loved strawberry jam, so I put half a jar of strawberry jam all over your cornbread.” I said, “Oh, Honey, no. You ruined the cornbread.” Then I said, “You did make the cornbread. Next time don’t touch the cornbread. I need to show you how to eat cornbread.”

About a week later she called and said, “I’m going to make cornbread.” I said, “Don’t touch it after you make it. I’m going to the store and pick up a few things. I’ll show you how to eat cornbread tonight.” I got buttermilk and green onions on the way home. I got my big glass, and she said, “I have a glass of tea for you.” I said, “Be cool.” I put that big glass down and started pouring the buttermilk. She said, “Honey, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, when you buy milk, look at the date. That milk has curdled, it’s spoiled, and it’s no good.” And I said, “Honey, that’s buttermilk.” She said, “I don't care who makes it; it’s no good. Look at the date before you buy it.” I just kept pouring buttermilk and grabbed my cornbread and attacked it. I put the cornbread into the buttermilk. Penny put her hands over my daughter’s eyes (she was about three) and said, “Don’t you look at your daddy. Don’t you look at your daddy.” I took a little bite of green onion and I took a bite of that cornbread and buttermilk, and she said, “I’m nauseated; I have to go.” She left, but it was one of the best nights of my life. We’ve made a lot of progress since then. She can watch me eat buttermilk and cornbread without getting sick. If I had not communicated with her, I’d still be mad about cornbread. If you want something, you have to ask for it. And you, too, might have one of the best nights of your life.

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Fidget While You Talk

Relationships can be tough. This week I was exasperated with Penny and said, “I was a fool when I married you.” She said, “Yes, dear, but I was too in love to notice.” I think sometimes that if Penny really loved me she would have married someone else. We’ve had our share of conflicts. We made a commitment when we were married that we would never go to bed angry, so we stayed up all night every night the first three months of our marriage.

Most of our conflicts involve communication. Unfortunately, the early part of my life was spent as a boy. Boys grow up fidgeting instead of talking. They are activity oriented. We grew up playing King of the Hill and Capture the Flag. We put on a helmet and knocked someone down. Men think a relationship is going great when they don’t have to talk.

Men like a no-huddle offense, all action. Women think a relationship is going great when the men in their lives have time to talk. Every night they seem to enjoy the huddle. Let’s be honest. Most women talk about general things. Women can just sit and talk. That’s very difficult for a man to do. He talks best when he’s spraying WD-40 or hammering. Men talk better when they fidget. Guys just have to fidget. That’s part of being a guy. Guys really never grow up. A five-year-old girl was crying. Her dad asked, “What’s the matter?” She said, “I just learned that I have to grow up, and I can’t be a little girl anymore.” He pulled her close and said, “Honey, let me tell you a secret. You have to grow up on the outside but not on the inside. I’m still a little boy inside, but don’t tell your mother.” She wiped her tears and smiled up at her dad and said, “I think she already knows.” Most wives know that guys never really grow up. Even when they grow up on the outside, they still play games like softball. That’s a legitimate fidget for older, graying guys. They just can’t seem to stop. Even when they hurt and ache and have to see the fidget doctors, the chiropractors, and the orthopedic surgeons, they can’t keep from fidgeting.

I was talking to a friend of mine. He had just bought a brand new Buick. It was loaded and had a remote control that opened everything. It turned on the lights, locked and unlocked the doors, opened the trunk, and turned on the alarm. It did everything with just the push of a button. He and his wife decided to take a trip in their new car, and she had all of her hanging clothes laid in the trunk so they wouldn’t wrinkle. They were neatly spread out. They stopped to get gas, and, with a full tank of gas, they got a free car wash. While in the car wash, my friend was killing time and decided to look at his remote. Men are men, and they like toys and gadgets and stuff, so he started to fidget with his new remote. He hit the wrong button and his trunk opened. Water and soap filled the trunk and washed his wife’s clothes along with the car. Two hundred miles down the road he finally got up enough courage to say something. He said, “Honey, do you see the humor in this yet?” She said, “No.”

Women don’t understand fidgeting like men do. Women understand talking and men don’t. Penny and I are working on a solution to this problem. She didn’t want to divorce me just because I was a man, and we are committed to growing old and breaking our hips together. That is, unless she doesn’t wring my neck first. I think we have found the answer to our problem. I love to play golf. God must have invented the game for men. I can fidget with a big stick, lots of them in fact, and I can hit something really hard. What a game! People ask me why I play golf. One reason is it is cheaper than Prozac. Another reason is that I can fidget. The golf swing lasts only about two seconds, so even if I hit the ball 100 times I’ve played golf for only 200 seconds. But it takes about four hours to play a round of golf. So what am I doing the other 14,400 seconds? I am riding around in a golf cart, drinking diet coke, and talking. That’s how men talk. We fidget, talk, fidget, talk, fidget, talk, fidget and talk. Men can’t just sit and talk. We have to have a little fidget while we talk. Penny has now taken up golf. One reason is so that she can talk to me. It’s great. We fidget, talk, fidget, talk, fidget and talk.

Now that we have solved our communication problem we have another problem – competition. Men like to win. I think Penny understands that. Yesterday she made a putt that beat me on a hole, and the minute it went in she said, “Oops!”

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Get the Details: Primary Communication 101

What do women want to know? Everything! My parents usually call on Saturday and talk for about twenty minutes. Penny always asks, “What did they say?” I say, “Uh, uh, they said…they are coming in April.” Penny says, “You talked twenty minutes, surely they said more than that.” “Well, they sure did. They said, uh…” I can’t think of another thing. I tell her, “It was just insignificant stuff, small stuff. It didn’t matter, I can’t even remember.” She’ll give me a look and say, “Okay.” Then the next day, somebody brings up something that my dad had talked about on the phone and it reminds me of what he said. So I’m in a group of people and I say, “Oh yeah, my dad said…” and launch into a story. Penny gives me a look. After the story she grabs my arm and says, “See, you tell the whole world everything and you tell your wife nothing, nothing, nothing.” That happens regularly.

I’m a man, so I decided to fix this problem. I’d had enough, and I was going to straighten out the situation. The next time my parents called, I wrote down everything they said, even every little insignificant thing. That way, when Penny asked what they said I’d be able to recite everything. I thought this would finally put her in her place. The next time my parents called, Penny and the girls were at the mall. (The mall has it all. One day I expect them to come home with the escalator just because it was marked “down.”) As we talked, I wrote down everything. The dog got into the tomatoes, the air conditioning bill was $235, everything. Then I just put it under my chair and waited for Penny to come home. When she came in, I didn’t say anything. I just waited. (You have to know when to hold them and when to fold them.) Finally Penny said, “Did your parents call today?” “Yes, they did.” “What did they say?” “Would you like to know everything they said?” “I'd like to know anything they said.” “I'll tell you everything.” I pulled out the paper and went through everything. The dog got into the tomatoes, the air conditioning bill, etc. I thought I had her good and she would never ask anymore. Finally, I got to the end, “They said goodbye and I said goodbye.” Penny was happy. She was smiling. Now she wants me to take notes every time my parents call.
You see, men don’t understand that women want details. But men aren’t into details. Penny and I visited a couple and on the way home Penny said, “Did you like that dress she had on?” “You talking to me?” (Most of the time, men bluff.) “Yeah, I liked the dress.” (But they always catch you.) “I didn’t think you liked that color of green.” “Oh, it was green? Well I guess I didn’t like it.” “You don’t even know what I’m talking about, do you?” “No. I don’t even remember she had on a dress.” “Did you like the curtains in the family room?” “Which was the family room?” “Did you like the tile on the floor in the kitchen?” I’m thinking, “I don’t have a clue.” “Did you like the taupe color in the living room?” “Taupe color?” I didn’t know there was a color called taupe. It’s not in my paint by color set. Is this an imported color or something? Does God know about this color? Men just don’t notice those things, and what we do notice we forget. That’s why there is instant replay for men; they have already forgotten. I don’t pay attention to the details. I can watch a rerun of Murder She Wrote and still not know who did it. We have to learn to pay attention because women want details.
Meeting the needs of a woman requires work. Typically a man will come home from work and his wife will say, “What happened today?” And he’ll say, “Nothing.” “Nothing? You were there from nine to six and nothing happened? Boy, they sure pay you pretty good for nothing.” Men cannot think of anything that happened at work. But a woman wants to know these things. When I did marriage counseling, I advised the men to write the details of what happened that day at work on a 3x5 card.
One time, a co-worker of mine was expecting a baby. I told my secretary, “Penny wants to know when Laurie has her baby, so let me know when the baby is born.” One day my secretary said, “Laurie had her baby; don’t forget to tell Penny.” I was excited because I could tell Penny something that happened. As usual, Penny said, “What happened at work today?” “Laurie had her baby.” “What did she have?” “She had a baby.” “They come in two kinds – boys and girls. What did she have?” “I don’t know; I didn’t ask.” But I’m a good husband so the next day I asked my secretary what Laurie had. Then I told Penny, “Laurie had a boy.” She said, “What did they name it?” “They named it a boy’s name.” The following day I told Penny, “Laurie named the baby Billy.” She said, “How much did Billy weigh?” “Billy was a fat baby.” You get the idea. Free advice: if someone has a baby at work, find out all the details. It's not enough to know that she had a baby.
To a woman intimacy means “into-me-you-see.” So, guys, you have to talk to her. Tell her your hopes, fears, and dreams. At least tell her where you went for lunch today. And, ladies, keep it simple please. Stick to primary colors.

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Get The Connection?

My wife and I periodically take a personality inventory in which one can score either as a thinker or as a feeler. It shows whether you make decisions with your head or your heart. Thinkers and feelers gravitate to different kinds of occupations. A pastor, a doctor, and an engineer were waiting one morning for a particularly slow group of golfers. The engineer asked, “What’s with these guys? We’ve been waiting for fifteen minutes.” The doctor agreed, “I don’t know, but this is ridiculous.” The pastor noted, “Hey, here comes the groundskeeper. Let’s have a word with him.” The pastor called out to the groundskeeper, “Say, George, what’s with the group ahead of us?” George said, “They are rather slow, aren’t they? That’s a group of blind firefighters. They lost their sight saving our clubhouse from a fire last year, so we always let them play for free anytime.” The group was silent for a moment. The pastor sympathized, “That’s so sad. I think I’ll say a special prayer for them tonight.” The doctor added, “That’s a good idea. In fact, I’m going to contact my ophthalmologist buddy and see if there is anything we can do for these guys.” The engineer suggested, “Well, in the meantime, why can’t these guys play at night?” I think you know what category the engineer fell into.

The majority of men score in the thinking category while the majority of women score in the feeling category. In my marriage, it’s just the opposite. I don’t know if I think like a woman or Penny feels like a man. But it affects our relationship. The first time I was sick, I wanted some serious comfort. I wanted sympathy, understanding, breakfast in bed with Snickers and ice cream, and a little bit of encouragement. She said, “You’re not that sick. Take a shower and go to work. You’ll feel better later.” Once I woke up with a backache, moaning and looking for some comfort. Penny said, “Get on the floor and do the exercises you are supposed to be doing. You’ll feel better.” I felt like the man who had a critical heart problem. The doctor called his wife in by herself and said, “Your husband is in bad shape. He will die unless you cook healthy foods for him, rub his neck, and meet his every need so that he can relax and not worry about anything.” When they were alone her husband asked what the doctor had said. The wife replied, “He said that you’re going to die.”

Thinkers are like that. They don’t gift-wrap things. One fellow that had one too many was stumbling home through a cemetery late one frosty night. He fell into an open grave. Pretty soon another inebriated type came along and heard the first fellow yelling from the hole in the ground, “Help. I’m cold. I’m cold.” The second fellow peered into the open grave and said, “Well, no wonder. You kicked all your dirt off.”

Inebriated thinkers are still thinkers. They have the ability to depersonalize things. Their humor is even different. They like jokes like the one about the war camp. The prison camp leader said, “Well, there’s good news and there’s bad news. First the good news: There is a change of underwear in the shower for everyone. But now the bad news: Smith you change with Jones, Jones you change with Smith…” You get the idea. If you are a thinker you are probably laughing. If you are a feeler, you are saying, “Yuck! How could he say that?”

I knew an administrator who was a thinker. People said he would fire his own mother. He replied, “No. I would never have hired her in the first place.” Thinkers would rather be right than be liked. They don’t worry about presentation; they just give you the cold, hard facts. Feelers gift-wrap everything.
Being liked is important to feelers. They are concerned with people’s feelings; they understand people and want to help. Unfortunately, this means they have a tough time saying no. They are the ones at the family reunion trying to keep everyone happy, especially after some thinker just insulted everyone at the table.
So why do feelers get into trouble? Because in trying to take care of the whole world, they end up resenting the world. Feelers have to remember what you learn on the airplane. In times of trouble, first put the oxygen mask over your own face and then help your children. You can’t take care of others if you don’t first take care of yourself.
How should I make decisions? With my heart or with my head? Use both. Don’t you know that they are connected? God connected them with a word. The word is love. Speak the truth in love. A gentle heart and a firm mind can get along when connected by love. Love connects a lot of opposites. It’s kept my wife and me connected for a long time. She has even softened up to my sick spells. As a matter of fact she goes overboard. When she says, “Does my little boy have a runny nose?” It takes a little joy out of my ice cream. But her heart is right. And for a thinker, that’s progress. So I respond, “Yes,” and I also add, “Your little boy has a headache, too, which a Snickers would really help.” So when heart and head are in competition, remember the love connection.

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Home Alone

Life has different stages. Someone has said there are four stages of life: you believe in Santa Claus; you don’t believe in Santa Claus; you are Santa Claus; and you look like Santa Claus. My wife and I are at the empty nest stage. That’s kind of in between being Santa and looking like him. It took us about ten minutes to get used to this stage. I have raised three daughters (God doesn’t send a son to a house where there’s already a man), and survived pantyhose strangulation. I feel like the guy who went through seminary but never believed in original sin. About twenty years later he ran into one of his professors. The professor asked if he still didn’t believe in original sin. He said that after raising teenagers and pastoring a church, he not only believed in original sin, but now he also believed in demon possession.

I’m now back to living with just my wife again, and she’s gone to visit the girls. I’m home alone. I’m like most of you guys. I really out-punted my coverage when I married. Not only is my wife beautiful, but she’s also organized. Everything has its place, and it better be there. She is thorough; she even proofreads a Xerox copy. That’s probably why God brought her into my life. My life is random haphazardness. I have a photographic mind. I just lose the film. I try to get it together, but when I do I can’t remember where I put it.

In clinical terms, Penny would be a compulsive neurotic. I would be what’s clinically called sloppy. So God brought us together. Why? Because God likes to laugh, that’s why.

Now, I have to admit Penny has gone overboard a few times. On vacation she used to want to clean up the car at every stop. I finally convinced her that’s unrealistic, and we decided to follow my plan. Enjoy the trip and hose out the car when we get there. Sometimes she cleans up things even before I’m through with them – like the time I got up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and she made the bed. I have to admit, however, it has helped me – at least I’m faster. I read the paper in one sitting. If I ever put it down, it’s gone.

Now, I’m home alone thinking about what life would have been like if I had remained single. Before I got married, I used to look in the refrigerator and play the “Unsolved Refrigerator Mystery” game. It’s a great game. You find a friend and take ten things out of the refrigerator and guess what’s under that green penicillin stuff and the one who loses has to eat it.

Well, the game is over and I lost, so I’m just sitting here in my chair looking around the house. I look around and see all the beautiful matching towels. We have regular towels that match the color scheme. Then we have guest towels that match the color scheme, but are just for guests. Then there are the “touch-me-not” towels that are for decoration only. And of course we have hand towels to accent the bigger towels that help bring out the appropriate color. If it were just me, I would have two towels – one wet and one dry. Alternate each day for about six months, then throw them away and get two more towels.

If I were single, I’d probably have one chair and one big TV and, of course, the remote control (appropriately named for all the dysfunctional males with MGMCTVD - Male Genetic Multi-Channel TV Disorder – who want to be remote but in control). When I look around, I see that Penny has put a lot of beauty in this place. No wonder God said it was not good for us to be alone. When God looked down He wanted to see something worth looking at – not two towels, a chair and a TV.

I read the other day that in the U.S., single men commit 80-90% of all crimes. So what do we do? We send them to prison with other men. What we should do is start a dating service. Find a good woman.

Well, got to go. The phone is ringing. It’s Penny! “You’re coming tomorrow?” Man, I’ve got to get this mess cleaned up quick. Where’s that water hose?

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Men

A few years ago the Forester Sisters sang a song about men. It went something like this:

“They buy you dinner, open your door, other than that, what are they good for? Men. They want a girl like the girl that married dear old Dad. That makes me so mad. Talking about men. Well, you can’t beat ‘em up ‘cause they’re bigger than you. You can’t live with them and you just can’t shoot them. Men, we’re talking about men.”

I have to admit, men do have problems with relationships. We grow up playing baseball, football, and basketball. A man thinks “talk” is a four-letter word. He thinks the relationship is going great if he doesn’t have to talk. Putting him in a situation where he has to talk about relationships makes him very uncomfortable. That’s why men go to the bathroom alone; that’s the way God intended it.

Men have difficulty expressing themselves. When my daughters call, I say only three things, “How’s the weather? Need any money? Here’s your mother.” A woman can talk on the phone for thirty minutes, and when you ask her who it was she says, “I don’t know. They had the wrong number.”

Men are simple. Women are complex. Women may even be smarter. Think about it. A woman’s best friend is diamonds, and man’s best friend is a dog.

I know women are more complex than men. When a woman is going out, she has to decide if she is going to wear her hair up or down, flats or high heels, slacks or a dress, casual or dressy dress, stockings, knee-highs or socks, jewelry or no jewelry, lots of make-up or a little make-up. A man picks up some clothes, smells them, and if there is no visible dirt he has himself an outfit. A man makes a fashion statement by turning the brim of his baseball cap backwards. Women dress to express themselves and men dress so they won’t be naked.

I see things in one dimension. It works or it doesn’t work. My wife sees it at a different level. For example, we moved into an almost new house with almost new wallpaper and Penny said, “That’s got to go.” I’m thinking, “Why? It’s almost new, it covers the wall – it works.” She says, “It’s not me.” I say, “It’s not me either; it’s wallpaper.”

We have thirteen pillows on our bed. I ask myself, “Why? I have one head; I need only one pillow.” The difference between men and women is best illustrated when you look at what women carry – a purse. It contains everything they might need. Men carry a wallet. It conveniently contains nothing but money, which means I can buy whatever I need. It’s simple! Women, on the other hand, are complex. Actually, women have many purses. My wife has casual purses and formal purses, and she even has spring purses. Some women even buy a purse just to match their shoes. What would my friends do if I told them I couldn’t wait for them to see my new spring wallet that matches my new shoes? They would run. Men are simple. Women are complex. These differences affect many aspects of a relationship.

When dealing with your wife, let me tell you what simply doesn’t work, especially in the area of gifts. If your last gifts have been things like salad shooters, dust-busters, weed whackers, deluxe irons, and drywall compound, you are in serious trouble. They work, but they don’t work with your wife. I was in serious trouble this year. I thought I did great. I got her a gift certificate. I still messed up; she said I got the wrong size.

Yes, men and women are different. That was God’s plan. The difference is the dynamic. Together we are more than we ever could have been apart. That’s why God said it wasn’t good for man to be alone. He made him a helper to complete him…or was it to finish him off?

http://www.freecomicbelief.com

Two O'Clock Bus

A sports team was in the middle of a terrible losing streak when the manager called a meeting and said, “There will be two buses leaving the hotel for the ballpark tomorrow. The two o’clock bus is for those of you who need a little extra work. The empty bus leaves at five o’clock.” In other words, everyone on the team needed a little extra work. Men also need to put in some extra effort, especially in the area of relationships.

It’s not hard to find evidence that men have some shortcomings. Recently, without even trying very hard, I found three telling examples in the news. The first example was about a basketball coach who admitted to being “a little bit too focused.” He said that when his young son was three years old, he took him to the barbershop so they could both get a haircut. While the coach was getting his haircut, he started focusing on a ball game on TV, and he continued to think about it as he went home. Two hours later, his wife came home and asked, “Where’s Jeff?” Just then the barbershop called to say, “Jeff’s read all the comic books that are here, and we’re about to close. What should we do with him?” The coach realized he had left his son at the barbershop.

Then consider the 78-year-old man in Key West, Florida, who thought his roommate was just being stubborn by refusing to answer him. It turned out his roommate had been dead for two months.

A third example is about little Matthew Murray, who took the ride of his life. His daddy put Matthew in the car seat and placed the car seat on top of the car. Then Matthew’s dad got into the car and took off. At fifty miles-per-hour, he saw a diaper go up in the air, and then he saw the car seat, with Matthew in it, fly through the air. Fortunately, the baby landed right side up in the median, and when his dad got to him, Matthew was smiling. Needless to say, God puts extra angels on duty when men are taking care of children. I heard about a guy who was baby-sitting twins. He fed the same one over and over and almost starved the twin brother.

Men focus on what they are doing and forget everything around them, especially relationships. When men my age were growing up, our hero was John Wayne. He said only two words – “Yep” and “Nope.” That’s all he said, and if talking didn’t take care of the problem, then he would fight ‘em or shoot ‘em. He was our hero, and we follow his trail. We’re like the man who told his buddy, “I had words with my wife; she had paragraphs with me.”

Most men want to be close to a woman who will leave them alone. But a woman’s heart is like a campfire. If you don’t tend to it regularly, you’ll soon lose it. It is a constant battle of balance. For example, women want romance. Romance is the opposite of practical. Women think roses. Men think, “Why invest in something that will be dead in four days?” It’s not the flowers women love; it’s the feelings they love when they receive flowers from someone they love. The flowers will die, but the feelings of love will live on, and that is worth your investment.

The concept of Valentine’s Day is difficult, if not impossible, for men to grasp. I was speaking at a Valentine’s Banquet for which the women had gone to a lot of trouble to create the right atmosphere. They decorated the gym and renamed it the “Love Café.” It was romantic with music and candlelight. I listened to the comments from the men at the tables. They were saying things like, “I can’t see my peas.” “It’s so dark in here, I don’t know what I’m eating.”

A Midwestern farmer placed an advertisement in a farm journal. “Wanted: healthy, wholesome wife to work on farm. Must have tractor. P.S. Please send picture of tractor.” That’s a guy – practical through and through. No wonder one lady said her husband had all the characteristics of a dog except loyalty.

Guys, we have to think differently. “Royal Dining” is not eating at Dairy Queen or Burger King. And she doesn’t want a new set of tires for her birthday.

Let me give you some hints – assurance instead of answers, sympathy instead of solutions, and perfume instead of kitchen appliances.

For the guy who said, “I don’t know what to get her for Valentine’s this year – she hasn’t used the floor sander I got her last year,” look for the two o’clock bus. Believe me. You need the work.

http://www.freecomicbelief.com

Feel My Muscles

Women have seven stages of life: infant, little girl, miss, young woman, young woman, young woman, and young woman. And any woman knows that the seven stages of a man are: infant, little boy, little boy, little boy, little boy, little boy, and little boy. Most smart women know that a man is just a ten-year-old boy all grown up. He still wants a woman to think he’s wonderful. A ten-year-old boy is outside doing flips on the jungle gym for his mom. He says, “Mom, look at me, aren’t I strong, feel my muscles.” She agrees, “You are so strong. You’re so wonderful.” He always performs for his mother and his mother encourages him.

But then something strange happens around 16 or 17 years of age. His mother starts to see the negative. Instead of watching him perform she focuses on the things she needs to improve. He says, “Feel my muscles.” And she responds with, “Clean up your room,” or “Make better grades.” Eventually he begins to look around for another woman. Ah-ha! “Feel my muscles. Aren’t I wonderful? Watch how hard I hit the ball.” The new woman said, “You’re wonderful! Let me feel your muscles. You’re so strong.” They get married. If this woman isn’t careful she will become like his mother and focus on the negative. He wants her to feel his muscles and tell him he is wonderful. So what happens if she doesn’t? He starts to look for another woman. Most affairs don’t take place for physical reasons but for psychological reasons. A man wants to hear that he’s good and wonderful and that he’s the best.

I’m not the best speaker in the world but my wife and I go to a conference where I speak with several others, she always tells me, “You were the best.” I like that. That’s another way of saying, “Feel my muscles, aren’t I strong?” That’s what a man needs. He’s just a ten year old boy grown up. He wants to be noticed. Every little boy wants to be a hero and the way to his heart is through his ego.

A “thank you” a day will keep the lawyers away. Ladies, when was the last time you told him you appreciated him for all his hard work? Better yet, go around and tell people how great your husband is. You say, “Wait a minute Charles, he’s not very good.” Let me ask you something. Why did you marry him if he’s not very good? Did you look for someone who would make you miserable? When you married, you convinced your parents how good he was. They may have told you that you weren’t old enough or that they didn’t like him. You convinced them otherwise by telling them all the good things about him. What happened? I suggest that your husband isn’t wonderful anymore because you don’t say wonderful things anymore.

Start saying that he’s the best and he will start acting the best. There is one slight problem, he probably doesn’t know how. He needs a little help, like a 10-year-old boy. You have to be direct. You can’t just say that you like flowers you have to be specific. A hint such as, “I like flowers” doesn’t get the job done. That will go over his head and he’ll come home with a package of seeds. You have to look him in the eye, show him flowers, and say, “On the next special occasion, roses like that would be nice and I especially like the yellow ones.” Be direct. If you say you like to travel, he’ll come home with a road map. You have to say, “I want to go to the Grand Canyon with you.” Romance to a man is a woman telling him exactly what she wants. That’s freedom. He can accomplish this and ask you to feel his muscles. This applies to every area of life in communication.  Men need specific directions.

Men hate to stop and ask directions but there comes a time when they are lost as a ball in tall weeds. They know they don’t have a clue. He will stop at a convenience store and ask the lady behind the counter for directions. “Do you know where Route 41 is?” She'll say, “Oh, yes, it's easy to find. Go to the third red light and take a left. Then go around the curve but don't take the next right. Go to the next right and you'll see a big tree. Go past the tree and turn on the next left. Go about a 1/2 mile and on the left you'll see a big curve, go past that curve and on past the next curve you'll turn left and you'll be on Route 41.” Every man in America will say, “Thank you very much.” He'll go back to his car and he won't have a clue where Route 41 is.

His wife will say, “Do you know where it is now?” And he'll say, “She didn't know.” He goes on and won't ask again. There's not a man in America who will say, “Excuse me, you're going too fast, could you slow down so I can write this down?” Now, if the lady behind the counter takes the time to show him, we're getting somewhere. She might say, “You know, I have to go right by there in just a few minutes. Why don't you follow me? I'll go slow and when I honk the horn and you'll be there. I will turn the blinker on and you turn.” The man would say, “Thank you God.” And he will find Route 41.

Listen ladies, this is what you do with a man. If you want him to get somewhere, you have to take him slowly and be direct and specific. Remember he’s a 10-year-old boy. If you tell him how to do it, he will. Why? So you can feel his muscles.

http://www.freecomicbelief.com