Pondering the future of babies
The J-man put on his super fast tennis shoes and was off to school in the blink of an eye, meanwhile, Abby was on my knee looking pleased with the world. When M got back, L said that they were eyeing a nunnery for Abby when she grows up and I said, nah, I want Abby to be a freak.
While I bounced Abby up and down on my knee, L and M squabbled over counter tops and I played a short lived intermediary. We laughed about how men and women communicate so differently and pondered the J-man and Abby at an older age. M thought J would be a freak easy and that was okay, but he didn’t want Abby to be one. When L and I begrudged his sexist thinking, he said talk to my younger brother, who is in college right now and he’ll tell you how the girls are.
I said I know how they are – women are sexually liberated and it is scaring the hell out of men. We talked about that woman who went under cover as a man and said that men basically think very little of women. M said that isn’t true – that if he was with a girl around his homies, he might trash the girl, but if it was his wife, he wouldn’t. I said well I don’t see a lot of trashing of men going on in any kind of serious way.
Then M confessed that men are basically insecure and that the one domain that has always been theirs is sex and now that that is being co-opted, it is making them more insecure than ever.
I called unfair as I had just had a conversation with another male friend who said that I am going to have to learn how to initiate sex because that is what men want – this after an entire sexual history of never initiating.
You can’t have it both ways I claimed – you’re scared because I’m overtly sexual but now you want me to initiate? What goes on?
So what are we dealing with here folks? Whatever happened to you, Tarzan, me, Jane – am I being too nostalgic? Or should men revert back to the Greek male homoerotic bonding where they go off and play war in the woods and feel comfortable while women hold Sapho fests all over the countryside? That ain’t right. In the words of Rodney King, can we all just get along? Jungle love?
Abby’s eyes were crossed by the time we finished our little talk.