I had the extraordinary privilege of growing up with girls the first two-dozen years of my life. I’d count myself (un)lucky having only girls as siblings – absolutely no brother! There were days I really wished I had one. Nonetheless, most times I never felt the absence of one, considering the characters I have as sisters – I call them the sweetest thingies in the world. There was never a dull moment.
I must not fail to mention the peculiarities I had living with ladies through out my teenage and young adult lives. Growing up, one of such has to do with my identity. If I were to be differentiated from colleagues bearing same name with me, I was without a second thought referred to as “Wale Obirin” (the female Wale) – explained by the fact I had a feminine disposition rubbed off on me, as a dint of growing up with ladies!
I left home to be on my own in my early twenties and when fate thought I’d enough of half a decade of self-government, I was convicted and sentenced to a life term of living with another woman (as a matter of fact, now increased to two)!
I’m not a chauvinist and this is not to tell you about my Ms. Fortunes, but to narrate things I still don’t understand about these peculiar people after my almost 30-year “professional” experience of living with them. Though not weighty, these witty, trifling behaviours are still beyond my understanding. Whether you have them as mothers, sisters, wives, relatives, friends, colleagues or whatever, you’ll agree that the under listed mannerisms are queer in no particular order. Thanks to contributors who shared their experiences:
a. I’ve always appreciated braids on ladies. The beauty of this exclusive coiffure when shrewdly crafted ceases not to turn my head yet against its volition. But, you may want to enquire: “What’s queer about braids?” To all sincere intent and purpose, there’s nothing curious about this hairdo but what gravels me is seeing ladies leaving a couple of loose braid strands across their face awkwardly obstructing their line of sight. They occasionally toss these aside. Why can’t the freakin' braids be packed in a lot?!
b. I’m not a shoe freak perhaps that’s why possessing more than a dozen pair of shoes all at one time, bewilders me. I discovered some men folks are likewise infected with this bug. What on earth is an individual doing with this number of footwear?! Most of them are worn occasionally – probably once in a year, after which they are no longer fashionable – while others end up being relics or mementos.
c. Have you ever peeked into a lady’s wardrobe? Most of the “wearables” look fit for folks a decade younger than their owners. It’s often implausible how they manage to put on these outfits. Remember White Chicks – when detectives Kevin and Marcus went shopping, disguising as Brittany and Tiffany.
d. Our ladies sudden switch (when the occasion demands) to the posh or impeccable (in local parlance called “forming”) is mind-blowing!
e. Now hold your breath (or sight) for this: Having a mirror behind the sunshade flap on the passenger side must be a criterion for choosing and purchasing a car! That’s how I spell Q-U-E-E-R.
f. Why do the women in our lives think a man who decidedly stays at home is akin to a complete handyman (plumber, electrician, gardener, carpenter, garbage man, driver, gateman and all – the fullworks, I must say). Someone should know I’m not complaining, just enquiring.
g. What’s that thing that infuriates women when one fails to follow the tenets of eating breakfast, lunch and dinner? Are you obliged to always show up at the table even when there’s no abdominal space to tuck meals in? More questions than answers.
h. A brain teaser: No matter how much more you earn than them, they end up having more than you do.
i. Another one that will boggle me forever: You take a strong stand concerning an issue. You promise ‘self even if Hitler bellows from h*ll or Mother Theresa sheds tears from Abraham’s bosom you ain’t gonna shift an inch. Nonetheless, the women in our lives find their way around, above, under or through this stance and our deportment falls like a pack of cards or melts like peanut butter by the hearth. Who if truth be told is indeed the weaker sex?
j. Whenever you do their bidding you’re a darling or a perfect gentleman. As a matter of fact, Denzel Washington is just trailing. However, when you don’t: You don’t know how to treat a lady!
k. When you have them as colleagues, they’re keen to show you “what a man can do, a woman can do battering.” Oops! I mean “better”.
l. A couple of times, I’ve tried to keep up with theCadavers Kardashians, discovering why TV remotes grow wings (to reappear much later) when soaps like Paloma, Demented Desperate Housewives, Second Chance et al were aired. Each time, my eyes increased in weight and changed colour (means drooped with sleep).
m. In the bid of trying to impress (or avoiding to disappoint) the women in our lives, we end up accomplishing all but what we set out doing, even at our risk. I know a friend who almost electrocuted himself while trying to help a next door female neighbour who asked for his unknown slapdash assistance – the poor guy didn’t know jack about electricity and he never wanted to disappoint his housemate.
I guess I’ve to stop here for now.
Excuse me ladies, is it safe for me to come home?
I must not fail to mention the peculiarities I had living with ladies through out my teenage and young adult lives. Growing up, one of such has to do with my identity. If I were to be differentiated from colleagues bearing same name with me, I was without a second thought referred to as “Wale Obirin” (the female Wale) – explained by the fact I had a feminine disposition rubbed off on me, as a dint of growing up with ladies!
I left home to be on my own in my early twenties and when fate thought I’d enough of half a decade of self-government, I was convicted and sentenced to a life term of living with another woman (as a matter of fact, now increased to two)!
I’m not a chauvinist and this is not to tell you about my Ms. Fortunes, but to narrate things I still don’t understand about these peculiar people after my almost 30-year “professional” experience of living with them. Though not weighty, these witty, trifling behaviours are still beyond my understanding. Whether you have them as mothers, sisters, wives, relatives, friends, colleagues or whatever, you’ll agree that the under listed mannerisms are queer in no particular order. Thanks to contributors who shared their experiences:
a. I’ve always appreciated braids on ladies. The beauty of this exclusive coiffure when shrewdly crafted ceases not to turn my head yet against its volition. But, you may want to enquire: “What’s queer about braids?” To all sincere intent and purpose, there’s nothing curious about this hairdo but what gravels me is seeing ladies leaving a couple of loose braid strands across their face awkwardly obstructing their line of sight. They occasionally toss these aside. Why can’t the freakin' braids be packed in a lot?!
b. I’m not a shoe freak perhaps that’s why possessing more than a dozen pair of shoes all at one time, bewilders me. I discovered some men folks are likewise infected with this bug. What on earth is an individual doing with this number of footwear?! Most of them are worn occasionally – probably once in a year, after which they are no longer fashionable – while others end up being relics or mementos.
c. Have you ever peeked into a lady’s wardrobe? Most of the “wearables” look fit for folks a decade younger than their owners. It’s often implausible how they manage to put on these outfits. Remember White Chicks – when detectives Kevin and Marcus went shopping, disguising as Brittany and Tiffany.
d. Our ladies sudden switch (when the occasion demands) to the posh or impeccable (in local parlance called “forming”) is mind-blowing!
e. Now hold your breath (or sight) for this: Having a mirror behind the sunshade flap on the passenger side must be a criterion for choosing and purchasing a car! That’s how I spell Q-U-E-E-R.
f. Why do the women in our lives think a man who decidedly stays at home is akin to a complete handyman (plumber, electrician, gardener, carpenter, garbage man, driver, gateman and all – the fullworks, I must say). Someone should know I’m not complaining, just enquiring.
g. What’s that thing that infuriates women when one fails to follow the tenets of eating breakfast, lunch and dinner? Are you obliged to always show up at the table even when there’s no abdominal space to tuck meals in? More questions than answers.
h. A brain teaser: No matter how much more you earn than them, they end up having more than you do.
i. Another one that will boggle me forever: You take a strong stand concerning an issue. You promise ‘self even if Hitler bellows from h*ll or Mother Theresa sheds tears from Abraham’s bosom you ain’t gonna shift an inch. Nonetheless, the women in our lives find their way around, above, under or through this stance and our deportment falls like a pack of cards or melts like peanut butter by the hearth. Who if truth be told is indeed the weaker sex?
j. Whenever you do their bidding you’re a darling or a perfect gentleman. As a matter of fact, Denzel Washington is just trailing. However, when you don’t: You don’t know how to treat a lady!
k. When you have them as colleagues, they’re keen to show you “what a man can do, a woman can do battering.” Oops! I mean “better”.
l. A couple of times, I’ve tried to keep up with the
m. In the bid of trying to impress (or avoiding to disappoint) the women in our lives, we end up accomplishing all but what we set out doing, even at our risk. I know a friend who almost electrocuted himself while trying to help a next door female neighbour who asked for his unknown slapdash assistance – the poor guy didn’t know jack about electricity and he never wanted to disappoint his housemate.
I guess I’ve to stop here for now.
Excuse me ladies, is it safe for me to come home?
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