This is the conversation the Man and I had while getting ready for our Memorial Day BBQ.
The Man: Can you get the propane tank refilled?
Me: I have no idea how to do that.
The Man: Just remove the tank, take it to the station -
The Man: It's easy.
Me: I can't do it.
The Man: Why not?
Me: Because that is a Man Job.
The Man: A what?
Me: A Man Job, something the Man is supposed to do. I can't do it.
The Man: (extensive rolling of eyes)
Me: Tell you what, I will birth the children and you refill the propane tank. Deal?
The whole conversation got me thinking about the Man's role at home. There are certain tasks that are undeniably his; I just can't do them. True, there are tasks that are all mine but we need not bring out the femi-nazis amongst my lurkers. Instead, let's talk about Men.
They have the Man Cold and Man Caves. They definitely have Man Jobs. For instance: Bugs. I have been known to not use a room for an entire day simply because I saw a spider in there (and don't tell me that they can crawl under the door! I don't need to hear that!). It is the Man's job to dispose of such unwelcome guests. Agreed?
Cold feet. I got 'em. I had it written into the Marriage Contract that I would be allowed to warm my frozen tootsies on his warm, hairy legs. If he shrieks and squirms away, he is in direct violation of said Contract and is no longer entitled to the benefits and privileges thereof. See? You give a little, you get a little.
Strange noises in the night. I get to cower under the covers - I mean, keep the blankets warm - while he goes in search of the weird sound. And really, let's just blame this one on genetics. Men are bigger and stronger, it's a proven fact. This is one of those times that I don't mind being dainty.
Unloading the groceries. The Man hates grocery shopping. Never liked it. I don't mind it, especially because it usually means I get to be out alone. If I spend the time traipsing around the grocery store, then he should help by unloading the groceries from the van for me. I'll put them away (if I ever want to find anything again), he just needs to use those big strong muscles and haul them inside.
Anything that involves the use of tools. And really, it's not because we don't know how to do these things (my dad taught me well) but we should let them have a little fun every now and then. What puts a smile on a man's face faster than strapping on a tool belt? Changing light bulbs, tightening faucets, replacing the deadbolt that your toddler dismantled while you were in the shower, or rescuing your earring from the sink drain. Good times.
Let's not forget the other jobs: car maintenance, lawn care, only person in the household allowed to pass gas without excusing themselves, and sleeping during church. These are the strenuous obligations of being a Man.
So what are some Man Jobs around your house?