Ya know, I really should know better than to question women’s logic.
Do ya think I learn? Nope.
And it’s not that I don’t know how a woman’s brain works……………..
Now here’s how all this started.
I wrote that dumb blog yesterday about life’s unanswered questions as a lot of those unanswered questions were rolling through my brain in a moment of insanity…..which I have quite frequently….usually while the Red Sox are blowing a game, which is every day.
Soooo, being quite satisfied that I had posed all of my unanswered questions, I posted that blog and relaxed a bit watching the movie Selena on TV starring Jennifer Lopez. (pant)
Then, off to bed to recharge my brain and body. Do ya think I could sleep? NO!
Why, because one of those unanswered questions, which I failed to mention, popped into my feeble mind.
Like why is it I was born in the year 1942 AD and presently, unless something changes drastically, like death, am 73. While my other half was born in the year 1943 and is (censored for fear of my life) two years younger than me.
It would seem to me, as I was lying in bed figuring this all out, that she would be ONE year younger than me rather than two years younger than me.
Cause I looked at it logically. If I were born in 1942 and she was born in 1943 then logically she should be one year younger. Makes sense to me.
Sooooo, foolishly I posed that question to her. Which of course DOES take me to the treading very closely to the death wish scenario.
“Dear, do you know that you’re not actually two years younger than me, but only one year younger than me.”
Now consider that whenever you challenge a woman’s age this is a verrrrry slippery slope for any man. Lest they have a death wish.
So, her response to me was that yes, she was born in 1943 and I in 1942 BUT, she’s still two years younger than me.
“WAIT!” I said. “1942 and 1943 are two years in succession so how in the hell can you be two years younger than me? Sounds kinda shady to me.”
“Because,” she sez, “Because there are months involved there. When YOU were born in February of 1942 I wasn’t born yet. THEN in November 1943 I was born. THEN three months later YOU were one year old while I was only three months old and THEN you had a birthday in February of that year so you were then two years old and I wouldn’t be one year old until that November. Then three months later in February you’d be two.”
“WAIT! Let me put this to you in man speak…or thought.”
So I continued with my logic……………..
“Soooooo, if I walk out to the mailbox to fetch the mail and one of those #!&%$#!# garbage trucks comes along and is going to make a left turn into the incinerator across the street and some idiot decides to pass him on the inside lane and clobbers me and you come running out to help and the headline in the paper the next day reads, “Elderly person 73, hit by garbage truck while his (censored) year old companion comes to his aid, do ya think they’re gonna quibble over freakin months when it comes to listing your freaking’ age!!!!!”
Her reply: “YES!”
“No, no, no,no,no, ya just don’t get it. If the reporter looks up when you and I were born he’s gonna see you were born in 1943 and I was born in 1942 so guess what smart ass, he’s gonna list our ages as one year apart! So there!”
Unfortunately she failed to gasp the logic in my argument.
Soooo, after 20 more minutes of debating my point, I decided it was useless when it comes to arguing about a woman’s age.
I rolled over and plotted my strategy for eventually winning this argument.
Which was to call my friend Marvin Frosbush at the Perpetual Rest Cemetary, where we have a plot, and tell him to alter the dates of our births on our headstone so that only the years of our births are listed and NOT the actual dates.
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