Men Are From Mars . . .

I made spaghetti squash with marinara sauce for dinner tonight. I thought it was delicious. My family disagreed. Asher spent most of the meal scooping the squash out of the bowl and placing it in what seemed strategic places around his high chair. Talmage took one bite and then devoted his energy to convincing Daddy to try it. "You'll like it, Daddy. It's actually really good! It's crunchy!" After the second bite he decided that he changed his mind, and could he have some Halloween candy instead? Tyler muscled his way through the main dish, and then ate six pieces of buttered toast.

"Is it okay?" I asked.

"It's okay" he responded.

"Should I make it again?"

"No."

I mentioned the meal and it's dismal failure to sister Marissa. "See?" she pointed out. "That's the difference between men and women. A woman will think, 'I wonder how I can cut 400 calories out of this meal?' and then spaghetti squash seems a surprisingly delicious option. Men just aren't used to sacrificing taste for the greater good of health and nutrition." This line of thinking brought many things into sharp reality. For example, Tyler looks adorable in a baseball cap, but never wears them because they feel a little bit "itchy."

To which I respond, try heels. Or even if you're not a person who wears heels, try women's pants, and then attempt to ask me condescendingly, "Why don't you just carry your wallet in your pocket?" Those pockets are for show, man! A grocery store receipt wouldn't fit in there. Or while we're on the subject, how about bras? There's no comfort in an underwire, especially after you add a layer of Gs under there.

And I can already hear Tyler's response: "You know what we don't eat enough of? Pizza. Pizza is delicious. Oooh! What about potato chips? Potato. Corn oil. What's not to like? Or maybe just a star value meal from Carl's Jr? Yes, I'll take two, please."

If you need me, I'll be over here in my stilettos eating my squash.