Squirrel Pie
by Jack Elliott
© Copyright
Friday, July 25, 2007
It’s got to be an x/y chromosome thing. That seems to be the only rational for faulty male memory.
No female has ever admitted forgetting anything, particularly if it has to do with some perceived shortcoming of her spouse. I say perceived, because what the female identifies as a male shortcoming is likely in fact a male survival strategy.
Like, “Honey, I can’t find my socks!”
“Did you look in the laundry basket?”
“There’s none there. Besides, all the ones I left on the bedroom floor… er, put in the cloths hamper… had holes in them. Did you mend them?”
“No! Look in the garbage can and then the clothing counter at the store!”
“Oh yeah, I forgot. I’ll pick up a bit more fishing tackle while I’m at it.”
“Huuummmmpf!”
So you see, by following this system, you can a) get out of mending your socks with the ensuing danger of self-administered acupuncture, b) splurge on new socks with tacit spending approval, and c) load up on a whole season’s fishing tackle with the treasurer none the wiser. And all the time you maintain the illusion of female memory superiority without muddying the domestic waters- too much.
At other times it’s not so simple.
When you take the kids out for a walk, it’s important to remember not to let the baby play in the grass where the dogs poop. Yes, Drizzle Creek does have pet owners who do not obey the “pooper-scooper” bylaw.
Ignoring the mess until you get home can be quite a challenge. Scott says it takes months of practice to be able to convincingly recite, “Smell? What smell? I didn’t notice. I don’t remember any place we could have come across dog poop!”
Fishing is a whole other memory challenge. Pickle claims he can remember, to the millimetre, the size and location of every fish he ever caught. The size is, of course, an outright lie. And the location specification evaporated this season when he invested in a new boat, forgetting to note the Xs he had placed on the bottom of the old boat for locating great fishing holes.
He is, however, tackling the problem with a new GPS gadget. Now if he could only remember how to run it and take along a fresh set of charged batteries! Remembering to bring a loaf of bread home from the bakery also remains a challenge.
The Runt faces a different memory challenge- remembering to empty the minnow bucket at the end of the fishing trip. Rose had noticed a gaggle of stray cats nosing around the garage and then gagging as they sniffed a cooler in the corner. A partial lift of the lid exposed the almost fully vapourized remains of a package of previously frozen shiners definitely past their ‘best before date’. The cooler and all contents made a quick trip to the curb. It was garbage day.
“Dear, have you seen my boat cooler?” whined Ken. The ensuing explanation was very clear.
“But it had all my best tackle in it!” wailed the forgetful male.
Oh, and Ken, remember to pick up some socks, while you’re restocking that new cooler and tackle box.
