You know what they say about prehistoric man—how he went out and hunted the big game while the woman gathered nuts and berries?  I think it is a lie perpetuated by evil evolution scientists.  I have proof that it could not have been true living in my own house. 

This weekend, my husband decided to make his very own sandwich after whining that he sure wished someone would make a sandwich for him.  Okay, I am not so mean that I won’t make my husband a sandwich, but sometimes, I am not in the mood—like when I am doing laundry and vacuuming and walking the dogs and he is enjoying an afternoon on the couch watching NASCAR.  Which was exactly what was happening this weekend, so I said, “Are your hands broken again?  Make it yourself!”

“Thought I’d run it up the flagpole,” he says cheerfully and gets up to make his own sandwich.  And then, it starts:  the hunter hunts the food.  Him:  “Hey, are we out of bread?” 

Me:  “No.  It’s right there where it usually is.” 

I hear him doing a lot of muttering that sounds suspiciously like it is not where it usually is Miss Priss, and then “Aha!” followed closely by, “Where is the cheese?”

Me, after a heavy sigh.  “In the drawer with all the other cheese.”

Fridge drawers open and shut several times.  Then:  “What did you do with the mustard?”

Me, sighing louder and realizing it would have been easier if I’d just made the stupid thing.  “I didn’t do anything with the mustard.  Think about where we usually keep the mustard…on the condiment shelf.”

Him:  “Oh yeah.  Are the pickles there, too?”

Okay, the man is standing with the door to the fridge open.  I can see him peering inside, and I can see—from my vantage point of another room and around a corner—the pickles, bread, cheese and mustard. 

And it’s not just fridge blindness.  You can put the man anywhere in the house and it’s the same.  “Have you seen my hiking socks?” he asks while staring at the underwear drawer as opposed to the sock drawer that has been directly adjacent for 100 years. “Where is my UT Longhorn T-shirt?” he asks while staring at the dress shirts hanging in the closet instead of in the T-shirt drawer of his dresser.  And my personal favorite, “Have you seen my gloves?” he wants to know while he has his jacket on and the gloves are sticking out of the pockets. 

What is it about men that makes them blind to everything in front of them?  Why can’t they remember from one day to the next that there is an actual sock drawer?  And really, how could men possibly have been the hunters?  We all love our husbands or significant others—but could they really have been the hunters, or were they wandering around the forest asking where the big game was?

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Today we unveil a new feature called, Know Your Goddesses. Okay, so the button has been up a while, but the CONTENT hasn’t gone up until today. Anyway, it’s amazing the things you don’t know about people. For example, it doesn’t surprise me in the least to hear that Karen Hawkins writes in the nude (although she won’t fess up). I mean, come on, look at her goddess picture above—if that’s not a bare breast showing, then my eyes need checking. But it worries me that she might also be one of the people who writes in a coffeehouse (yours truly being one of the others). I don’t know about HER coffeehouse, but mine would frown on nudity. I’m just saying.

I am also truly appalled to learn that a FULL THIRD of the goddesses say “blech” to chocolate. And Rachel would kill for Skittles—aren’t those the tart, obnoxiously colored things that stick in your teeth when you chew them? Who knew that someone would kill for THOSE? Remind me not to go near Rachel at Halloween—my son always seems to come home with a ton of Skittles, and we all hate them.

The one thing I DO understand is all the controversy on how to tally up the children. I agree with Karen Rose that husbands should count (maybe not all the time, but certainly occasionally). Guppies are a gray area for me—as one goddess pointed out, it would seriously skew the numbers. But a horse seems fair. They do live in barns, after all, and since teenagers act as if they too live in barns . . . you see my point.

Well, I won’t give it all away. You can go find out the fun stuff on your own. While you’re clicking through, be sure to check out the Stone Tablets (our FAQ page). And if you have any questions that need answering, by all means contact a resident goddess!

So tell me, what do YOU find the most shocking or interesting about the resident goddesses?

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