Walk like a man

I was never very good at learning by example; I was always a hands on kind of person. I learn through trial and error, which explains why I’m not a gynecologist. I started the classes and when the professor would be in the middle of one of his various pussy lectures Id say “stop talking; I just want to dive right in”. Needless to say they refused to let me practice on real patients after I was found going down on an anatomically correct medical dummy. This learn by trial and error seems to serve me well for the most part but it does have the occasional draw back. WD-40 advertisers say it has over 2000 uses….for the record as a replacement to KY-Jelly is not one of them. Live, learn and heal right? Speaking of learning I was told the other day that as a father it is my job to teach my sons how to be a man. I would like to take this moment to apologize in advance to my sons. I have a confession to make, several actually. I do not like fishing. I have never been hunting. I really have no interest in watching sports of any kind, especially NASCAR. I can pump gas and squeegee my windshield however that is the extent of my vehicle maintenance knowledge. What lies under the hood of my car is as mysterious to me as the female orgasm. I have heard about it, but have no idea how to make it work. I am not a big beer drinker; in fact I really don’t like the taste of beer. So other than some facial hair and a rather large penis (wink, wink) there is little that distinguishes me as a man. At least by the larger society’s definition of what makes a man. I for one however refuse to accept the gender roles that society has carved out for me….I refuse this mostly because it allows me to defer lawn cutting and garbage taking out responsibilities. But I also refuse it because I believe what makes a man is being born with a penis, after that it really doesn’t matter. I don’t think you have to care who scored the most touchdowns in a single year or know how to change the spark plugs on your car. It’s not an easy task fighting traditional gender rolls. All seems to go pretty smoothly until they reach school and then suddenly you end up debating whether or not the pink plate is in fact a “girl plate”, unlike my 4 yr old son if there was such thing as a “girl plate” it’s all I would eat off of. Not for my boys though, favorite meals will be refused if there served on a plate with a picture of Cinderella on it. Consequently I serve them almost every meal on a “girl’s plate”. I under estimated this opponent I was facing, I foolishly thought my children would believe me when I said girls can be astronauts, boys can play with dolls. Little did I know I would be competing with magazines, advertisements, sitcoms, movies, cartoons, classmates, other parents and even my own family members. My wife’s parents gave my daughter a toy broom on her 3rd birthday. A toy broom? I balanced it out by giving her a toy gun so at least now if she grows up to kill people she’ll have the good sense to clean up after herself. So now I figure the best I can do is to teach my children not to believe everything they see in the media. If it doesn’t work I’ll try the WD-40 again……I figure one quick blast to the eyes and at least they wont be able to see what the media is telling them!