Come 'ere, let's have a little chat about living in a house with a man. You know, that handsome, hairy being to whom you committed life and love and square footage.
At any given time, there may be a carburetor on the ottoman, a catalytic converter on the dining table or a rifle stock on the nightstand.
There will most likely be dirty socks in the living room.
There will probably be whiskers in the bathroom sink.
There may be shoot 'em up video games and intense action movies assaulting your ears.
There will for sure be more booty grabs and hopeful, suggestive comments than there are times you are in the mood for them.
There may be things that you think are the end of the world that he just doesn't seem to care all that much about, which will drive you nuts.
There may be Hawaiian shirts, overalls, and socks with sandals and, if you are really lucky, all of the above at the same time.
Ladies, how about we cut our men some slack and allow them to be...men.
I don't mean just throw your hands up and surrender to a fate of picking up laundry that is everywhere but the hamper while said man hones his zombie apocalypse moves on xbox for hours on end. That's an imbalanced relationship if I ever saw one, and needs some healthy discussion stat.
What I mean is...living in a house with a man can be frustrating, annoying and complicated at times. But you are not living with a robot, programmed to match, mirror and suit your every need and nuance. And you are not living with yourself. You are living with another human being and that human being is different from you. You committed to share life together, for better or worse, for clean laundry or stinky socks.
Ladies, you live with a man. Don't be so surprised when he acts like one. :-)
P.S. Click here for a note to the fellas on living in a house with a woman...