Now Where Did I Put Those Keys?

I've been set straight. A gentleman wrote me and informed me of my grievous error. Apparently there is one man, a shoe salesman in Passaic, NJ, who can multi-task. My apologies to him. Now seriously, of course I made a generalization. There are men who multi-task very well. There are women who don't. That said, I still stand by my original assessment that men (in general) don't multi-task well, and women (in general) do. There have been several studies on this topic, in fact, that have arrived at the same conclusion. Now, this is not necessarily a bad thing, guys. Although most men can't juggle many things at the same time the way most women can, they do tend to focus on one task at a time, respond more quickly, and complete that task faster than a woman would. Most women can half listen to a couple different conversations going on at once. Most men will tune out all but one conversation and completely focus on that one, which is why you never attempt to talk to your husband while he's watching t.v. Which is better - getting bits and pieces of two conversations or getting one hundred percent of one conversation?

Take my grocery store example. I tell my husband to get a package of size 3 diapers, some bananas and a gallon of milk. Yes, he comes home with 3 packages of diapers in various sizes and a banana cream pie, but he does this in under ten minutes. If I'd given him one task at a time, he would've made three trips to the store and still gotten everything home in under half an hour.

Had I gone to the grocery store on the same mission, I would've come home with a package of size 3 diapers, some bananas, a gallon of milk, some strawberries because they were on sale, a bottle of creamer because I remembered that we were out, some Pop-Tarts as a treat for the kids because they were extra well behaved today, some razor blades because they were on clearance, a new bar of soap because ours has been magically transformed into a ball, a package of chicken to put in the crock pot for dinner tomorrow, a couple magazines to read while I'm at the hospital with my son next week, and a princess headband for my daughter just because it was cute. This trip would take me approximately two and a half hours because I'd have to compare prices and look for my coupons, and assuming I was able to run out without the kids, I'd just enjoy my time going up and down the aisles giving sympathetic smiles to parents shopping with kids in tow. And of course, I'd have to stop and chat with every friend I ran into.

See? My husband was on a mission and shopped quickly; I was slow. He was lacking in accuracy; I added unnecessary extras to the cart. Not one method is better than the other. They're just different. My husband will be the first to tell you that he doesn't multi-task well. Give him a specific job (one at a time, please) and he's on it. He stays calm, focuses on that one job, and does it quickly. I, on the other hand, can do half a dozen jobs at a time, but I must admit, I don't always do them well. For example, while I was cleaning my sons' room and conversing on the phone yesterday, I screeched into a man's ear, "It's a hotdog!" Not one of my finer multi-tasking moments. Oftentimes when I clean up around the house while talking on the phone or checking homework, I can't remember where I've put something. Keys? What keys? Oh yeah, I think I remember seeing keys somewhere. Now where did I see them? Where on earth did I put them? (By the way, if keys go missing, blame it on the baby. It works every time.)

So, in conclusion, men, don't be upset if you don't juggle multiple tasks well. You have your own method of doing things and it's not bad. It's simply different. I know I plan on keeping my husband around despite the wrong size diapers he brings home from the store. I have to keep him - he can open the jars of KoolAid pickles, reach the stuff on the high shelves, and change my oil. ;)

My son didn't erase my petrified hotdog picture afterall! I just couldn't find what folder he'd put it in.

The J. Peterman Underwear Hat

Some people simply have style. Perfect for swinging at the park, running in the backyard on a warm summer day, or wreaking havoc at the local grocery store. Red elastic waistband doesn't bind. Holes for air circulation. Soft cotton fabric for stylish comfort. Boys sizes 2T - 4T.

(not really a J. Peterman hat.)

It's a Hotdog!!!

I was cleaning my sons' room while conversing with a gentleman on the phone. I can never just talk to someone on the phone. No, I have to sweep the floor, clean the toilet, wash dishes, or fold laundry while chatting. I'm not sure why this is. I think that moms are just such resourceful multi-taskers that we simply don't know any other way. We can check homework, chop vegetables for dinner, feed the baby, and listen to our child tell us, in great detail, what they had for lunch at school. We can fold laundry, quiz our child on their spelling words, tie shoes, wipe runny noses, sew a button on a shirt, and drive to the store at the same time. See a man do that! Actually, you'll never see a man do that. They can't. Truly, it's not that they're stupid or lazy. They simply cannot do more than one thing at a time. It's physically impossible. Their minds are very "one track". I can't send my husband to the store to buy more than two items because he WILL forget at least one of those items. If I tell him, "Get a package of size 3 diapers, some bananas, and a gallon of milk," he'll inevitably come home with 3 packages of diapers in all different sizes, and a banana cream pie.

Anyway, I digress. As I was saying, I was on the phone talking to a gentleman, a businessman in the corporate world who was kind enough to call me between a luncheon with a client and a business meeting in order to give me some advice on my new found popularity. As I'm talking to him (and of course, picking up toys in the boys' room) I saw, to my horror, a piece of some sort of food-type object. I really wasn't sure what it was at first. I thought maybe it was a Tootsie Roll. Nah, it wasn't quite the right color. The thought occurred to me that perhaps it wasn't really food! Oh no, please don't let it be.... Whew! It wasn't anything that belonged in a toilet thankfully. Upon closer inspection, I realized it was a chunk of a hotdog. A piece of a petrified hotdog. You could easily see that it had been in the boys' room since sometime around the Mesozoic era.

In the middle of my phone call with this important gentleman, I shriek, "It's a hotdog! I just found a petrified hotdog in my boys' room!" I'm pretty sure the man with whom I was conversing, thinks I have brain damage.

This is not the first time I've found food in the kids' rooms. In fact, earlier this week, while tucking my 3 year old in bed, I found half a hotdog bun under his bunk.

"Why do you have a nasty, old bun under your bed?"

"I don't know."

"Remember when I talked to you about bringing any kind of food into your room? You can't take food in your room. It belongs in the kitchen only."

"I know, you said if I put food in my room, ants and bugs and mice will come in my room."

"That's right! You do remember. So why did you put this bun in your room?"

"Because you said that ants and mice will come in my room!" he reiterates.

It hits me now that my little speech about visiting critters didn't deter him from bringing food into his room. No, quite the contrary, he was now sneaking food under his bed in an effort to attract critters! It simply amazes me how their minds work some times.

Anyway, I took a picture of this fossilized hotdog, however while I was at the school's open house this evening, my oldest son used my camera to make a stop motion film and apparently deleted the hotdog picture from my memory card. Oh well. I do have this picture though...

Remember the bar of soap with the teeth marks from last week? It underwent a metamorphosis of sorts. It will truly be a miracle if my kids ever get in the shower and just wash themselves instead of eating the soap, sculpting the soap, or just squishing the soap down the drain.