In my youth I believed the difference between men and women was
that men liked the Three Stooges and women didn’t. Now I am older,
wiser, mature. I am chock full of nuance and understanding.
In my youth I believed the difference between men and women was that men liked the Three Stooges and women didn’t. Now I am older, wiser, mature. I am chock full of nuance and understanding.
Now I understand there are other differences. Women are better at wrapping presents. I once wrapped a present with newspaper and used much of the Sports section and a page from Living. My daughter needed a Comics page.
Women and men also Christmas-shop differently. This was proven the other day when my daughter and I shopped together. She is 20. She looks great in hats. She approaches material belongings with poise. She scrutinizes objects.
I prefer an aggressive attack. I walk into a store, spot an item, and advance upon it.
“Let’s get this for my mother,” I said.
“Dad, it’s yellow,” said my daughter.
“Yellow’s not her color?”
“Dad, yellow isn’t anybody’s color.”
My daughter will enter a store and size it up. If there are possible gifts, she will browse. If a possible gift situation arises, she calmly analyzes the item and discerns whether it may be right for someone.
She lets the gift come to her. It must speak to her. It must have soul. She often gets the right stuff for people.
I seize an item I like, then worry about its value to anyone. The other day I found a ball-point pen shaped like a great white shark.
“Look at this. This is awesome,” I said. “Someone is gonna love this.”
“Right,” said my daughter. “Maybe you should get it for grandpa, he can use it in a business meeting.”
We didn’t get the pen.
My daughter also has the ability to set a potential gift down and say something like “let’s look some more, we can always come back for that.”
I say if you pick something up, there’s no going back.
“If I put this back,” I told her, “someone might snag it.”
“Let’s take the risk,” she said.
Though our approaches often differ, and on their own contain weaknesses, when combined they form a whole. We only follow one steadfast rule: it is imperative that under no circumstance do I attempt to buy clothing for women.
There are two main reasons my daughter will not allow me to buy clothes for women:
1.) Men born in the 1950s were created with sizing deficiencies. A balding man born in the 1950s who can buy correct sizes for women should be viewed with suspicion. It is like Moe and Curly trying to operate iPods.
2.) Color confusion. I am drawn to yellows and oranges. Yet, I don’t enjoy those colors. Not on cars or pencils.
So she handles the clothes, although I do fairly well with sweatshirts.
Despite the challenges, we accomplished our Christmas shopping in a few hours and had time for lunch.
When we arrived home, I reminded my daughter never to generalize or stereotype differences between men, women, people, and animals. That we are all individuals. That a thread of traits may run through a particular group. That working as one, we can all accomplish much together.
“Right,” she said. “I’ll wrap, you fill out the tags.”
