I don’t think there’s a woman, or a man for that matter, who doesn’t realize how very different males and females are. Spend an extended amount of time around the opposite sex and it becomes apparent. Get married, and it’s like a piano dropped on your head. I can recall many years ago doing an experiment. It went like this.
My husband was off work, and he was in the kitchen with the children. He was busily teaching some lesson to our eldest daughter, and I watched them lovingly from the living room. As I watched their interaction I noticed a stray Cheez-It fall from the table, then in slow motion I watched as my husband stepped on the dropped snack. It made a loud crunch, loud enough that he noticed. I watched as he glanced down at the floor. Then I watched as he chose to ignore the shattered snack.
And so began a battle of wills that lasted a full week until I caved and swept up the obliterated snack. At one point I had even labeled it on the hardwood with a post-it note, and he had smirkingly passed it by day after day. He wasn’t bothered by crumbs on the floor, but I was. It was a perfect example of the difference between man and woman, though not an exhaustive portrayal. It went far deeper than shattered crackers.
How we thought was different. What we placed importance on was different. How we chose to approach matters was different. Such as how I figured it was significant that he want to clean the floor, yet he was persistent to stubbornly prove he didn’t have to do anything a post-it note suggested. How women saw an issue was more complex. It’s like if issues were peaches. Women would see the color, if it were ripe enough, and consider where the sticky pit should be disposed of once it had been consumed. They would pay particular attention to the sweet smell, and take the time to consider if it was large enough to give each member of the family a bite. They might wonder if peaches were a sensible fruit to eat, and how it might affect future digestive health. They would most likely awaken at 3am with an emotional outpouring of memories over how quickly the peach had been devoured, they’d worry if they had done the right thing as a wife and mother eating it that day, and then they’d probably go check the counter to see if they had remembered to clean up the sticky juice aftermath after watching in delight as their children joyfully partook in a peachy treat.
Men would see a piece of fruit. They’d eat it and say, “that was good. Maybe I’ll buy another sometime.”
The wife would begin to mentally budget how the future, excess purchases of peaches might negatively impact the kids’ college funds. Yeah, they’re in preschool. What of it? Gotta plan ahead! At 3am.
As a woman, and as a woman who typically overthinks everything, plans to the most intimate of details, and unwillingly worries over the most unlikely of outcomes, it’s hard when my husband doesn’t do the same. It’s crazy what I may notice or place importance on, and what he may in comparison see as minuscule. It’s honestly exasperating at times. I mean, who hasn’t cursed the dirty pants thrown right alongside the laundry basket, or the pile of trash left laying on the counter right beside the garbage can?! Statistically women notice these things, and mostly men do not. It could drive you crazy if you let it.