They got stuff


This article is for all you Neanderthals out there, and yes, I’m including myself in that group. I’ve made a discovery that may change the future course of history as we know it. The answer to why men and women are different has finally been … well … answered.

Men and women are different because they’ve got stuff. And by they I do mean them.

Like most great discoveries it was made truly by accident. Last week I’d run out of shaving cream. It seems the magic Genie who replaces it when she knows it’s about to run out … forgot. Or she was just too tired from her 17-hour work days and all those business trips of late. My poor Genie needs another vacation, but I digress. This story isn’t about the overworked, over-stressed Wife. It’s about my great discovery that will change the future of mankind forever.

First I tried soap. Nope, didn’t work. Not foamy enough. Next up, baby shampoo. Also didn’t work. No tears, but way too many bubbles. Finally, in a last desperate effort not to leave the house looking more unkempt than normal, I went where no man has gone before and lived to tell about — I rifled through The Wife’s bathroom drawers!

Have you ever noticed your wife’s drawers? Okay, stop laughing. On my side of the bathroom I have one. In it is stored everything that’s needed for my morning routine with room to spare. The Wife’s side of the bathroom is a totally different story. She has eight drawers packed full of … well … I don’t know what. I’m not allowed in them, but last week when I ran out of shaving cream The Wife was gone. So into the drawers I ventured.

I tried a can of hair removal cream — which made perfect sense to me. I had a very hairy face; it was a can of hair removal cream. What could go wrong? When the directions say don’t use this product on face and keep out of eyes, it’s best to heed that warning. Then again, we Neanderthals aren’t known for our direction-reading skills or heeding warnings, are we?

Side note: in order to make hair removal you’re not supposed to use on your face stop the painful burning in your eyes, you must flush them with copious amounts of water. How much is copious, you may ask? About as much water as it takes for you to stop screaming and dancing around the bathroom like a little baby. Not that that’s what happened to me, mind you.

Half blinded, I again went for the drawers, and this time pulled out a small pink can. Yes, dear reader, it was none other than my old familiar friend. Raspberry-pink-stuff in a can, but this time it was new and improved with vitamin E and olive butter. Why they added vitamin E and olive butter I don’t know. It wasn’t like anyone would try to eat the raspberry-pink-stuff which, by the way, has zero calories.

Second side note: Although sounding delicious, Raspberry-pink-stuff in a can fortified with vitamin E and olive butter doesn’t taste good at all. It will, however, leave your breath tingly and fruity smelling.

With mouth going numb, I quickly searched for a razor and suddenly remembered the same poor overworked magic Genie who didn’t restock the shaving cream also didn’t restock my razors. So it was back to The Wife’s drawers where I found a pink razor attached to a funky handle. With Raspberry-pink-stuff on face and a pink razor with a funky handle in hand, I began to shave.

It was the closest and most enjoyable shave I’ve ever had! And that’s when I suddenly became aware why the females in the world look so much better that all of us Neanderthals. Because they have stuff, drawers and drawers of beauty stuff.

If I had more stuff, then maybe I would look better? One glance in the mirror and I suddenly became aware of another factoid. They don’t make that much stuff.

Luckily no one saw me going through all of The Wife’s drawers except the cat, and she’s not telling. At least, I don’t think so. The females of this world kinda do stick together.

If she finds out, I just hope by then I’ll be able to talk. The numbness from the Raspberry-pink-stuff in a can fortified with vitamin E and olive butter has now spread. I can’t move my jaw or feel my tongue.

[Rick Ryckeley, who lives in Senoia, has been a firefighter for more than two decades and a columnist for The Citizen since 2001. His email is]