When Boys Listen
An exchange between Brent and me this morning:
Me: Bye babe!
Brent: Bye. Good luck!
Me (confused): Thanks....?
Brent: On your finals. You have two finals today, right?
Brent: Brig, I know you told me you have two finals today.
Me: Brent, I didn't have class on Tuesdays all semester, what are the two finals I have today?
Brent: I don't know, but I swear you told me that.
Right. Just like he swears I told him that I like Peeps (our first Easter together his mom bought so many Peeps she practically had stock in the company; truth: I don't like Peeps) and that I don't like the Beatles (I don't really know any of their songs besides the mainstream ones, but that doesn't mean I hate them or anything).
It got me thinking about what the world would be like if guys actually listened. Not just pretended to listen while secretly setting their fantasy line-up for the week, but actually paid attention to the words coming out of our mouths. Radical thinking, I know.
It would probably result in some butterfly effect-type shit. Or something along the lines of "If You Give A Mouse A Cookie."
If A Guy Actually Listens
If a guy actually listens to you, you're probably naked, or feeding him, or both. He's really interested in the words that are coming out of your mouth, but the truth is, they're just not as interesting as your boobs. Or the sandwich you just made him. So can you just stop talking so he can enjoy his sex/sandwich in peace?
I'm just too demanding, is all. On that note, I'm off to make Brent a sandwich and get some head nods and uh-huhs about wedding ideas while he's
not-so-secretly tuning me out. Hey, if you can't beat 'em...