Curious Husband Behavior

Scientists are increasingly proving that men and women think differently. As our different proportions of estrogen and testosterone drip into and form puddles in the folds and cavities of our brains, we are influenced to engage in the world and behave in ways that can only be explained, to be kind, as “crazy” in the eyes of our partners.

It’s a glorious Saturday morning here. Cold has finally found it’s way to us again. Finally, we have comfortable sleeping weather. It’s overcast and promising to rain (we’re keeping our fingers crossed) and it’s the perfect sort of day to stay inside with a warm drink, playing on the Internet, catching up on podcasts and reading. Not according to my husband though. The man loves to work. He loves it. If you were to confront him and say, “Good sir, do you love to work?” he would deny it, maybe even vehemently. He might even chortle. However, as his wife, I am an eye-witness, an objective observer to his daily doings, and I can tell you that there is only one explanation, just one logical conclusion.

This morning, instead of say, sleeping in, or sitting down to a nice breakfast or eating cookie batter, all behaviors I would consider logical, my husband got dressed and rushed outside to rake and bag the leaves. Oh, how many times I’ve tried to convince him to use the mower to mulch the leaves, which are then quickly and easily raked and thrown into the natural areas I’ve worked very hard to create to reduce the yardwork.

Sometimes, I rush home from work and hurriedly mulch up the leaves in the front yard because I know that come the weekend, my husband, God love him, will see those leaves and be unable to fight his uncontrollable, compelling urge to bag them. Last week, I came home at lunch (to wait for a service techinician), and I got the front yard done in about 40 minutes, a job that done my husband’s way would have taken probably two and a half hours. When he got home an hour later he asked in amazement, “When did you do that? You mean you just did that? How did you do it so fast? Where did the leaves go?” I explain it. Again. In fact, we’ve had this conversation no less than ten times (about twice every Fall before I give up and just let him do what he’s going to do).

But still, no matter how I try to appeal to his logic, somewhere in his mind, it makes more sense to the man who claims he hates yard work, who moans and complains vociferously that he gave up his town home where all the landscaping was done by the homeowners association, to go outside at 9 am on a Saturday morning and spend two hours raking and bagging leaves.

I wish I understood. I am convinced that if I can make sense of this behavior, I will have the secret to how men think and will be world-famous for saving relationships all over the planet. It may even be the secret to world peace.

But God knows, I love him. Bless his heart.