In a world where women come from Venus and men come from logic, it’s tough to be a woman. It isn’t that we’re not logical; we just have our own assumptions of what “logical” means. Here’s an example how my logic fared when I faced down the male version of it.
I did not receive roses from my spouse on our anniversary because he claimed finances to be a wee-bit sparse this year. Somewhat miffed, but never one not to turn things to my advantage, I suggested he buy me an artificial tree instead. I explained it this way: “The tree will probably cost less than the dozen roses you didn’t buy me, and, in some small manner, even a bogus tree is related to the floral family. But, best of all, it will fill the empty corner of the bathroom.”
“But I didn’t buy you roses,” he said, “so it doesn’t make sense to replace a gift I didn’t buy you with something else.” Did he stop there? No. “Besides, he said, “you cannot compare an artificial tree to roses, even in some small way.” (Never mind that he hadn’t bought the roses.)
I’ll admit he momentarily had me with that comparison but I can think quickly, if not logically. “The roses would have died, but the artificial tree will last forever.”
He countered. “But to replace an item, forever lasting or not, with an item I wasn’t going to buy you in the first place still makes no sense.”
“It does to me,” I answered.
I saw the look of defeat in his eyes, but it was fleeting.
He took his logic in a new direction. “Why,” he said, “do we need to fill the empty space in the bathroom?”
“Well, the vanity you installed isn’t wide enough, and the empty space next to it just begs for greenery.”
“It isn’t wide enough,” he said, “because we bought the vanity you insisted on.”
“If you recall,” I replied, “the vanity that filled the space would have cost a lot more, so an artificial tree is truly a bargain.”
“An empty space is a better bargain,” he said.
“Come on,” I said, urging him to look inside the bathroom. “What do you see in that corner?”
“Nothing,” he answered. “What’s wrong with ‘nothing’?”
“Nothing is wrong with ‘nothing,’ but here we need something, and that something is an artificial tree that will actually save us hundreds of dollars.”
“Whoa,” he said. “Roses don’t cost hundreds of dollars.”
“I know,” I conceded, “but a bigger vanity will.”
He cleared his throat and spoke in an attorney-like voice: “Not only did I not buy you roses, but I have no intention of installing a bigger vanity nor of buying an artificial tree.” He rested his case.
I did not rest mine. I explained how buying an artificial tree would stimulate the economy. I mentioned that its artificialness would help save the rain forests. I ended by promising to string it with lights next Christmas–which would cost far less than purchasing Santa-decorated hand-towels and reindeer-shaped soap.
He let out a sigh, no doubt heard by all men of the world, and left the area muttering, “What is wrong with that woman?”
I can’t explain the precise moment male logic caved because my tactics pretty much made no sense, even to me. Nevertheless, an artificial tree now stands in what was formerly a vacant spot.
And I love the roses I received for my birthday.