Man Pants

On Saturdays I put on my man pants and do the things that I wish a guy would do. It doesn't even have to be a guy who belongs to me. It can be the gardener man. Or a teenager down the street. Maybe even a hobo man, but that is kind of pushing the safety perimeter.

Of course, I don't need a guy to do things like mow the lawn, clean the gutters, trim tree branches, dig up shrubs, and go to Home Depot with me. I can fully do all those things by myself if necessary. There is just something inherently wrong about it. I just feel like there should be a man doing these things, or at least helping me with them.

I look at it like this: If a button falls off a guy's shirt, he probably can figure out how to fix it himself with a needle and thread. But it just seems like he should have a girl there to help him, or to do it for him. Or maybe the guy is searching for pillows for his living room. He is fully capable of choosing pillows he likes, but it seems a bit wrong, like there should be some sort of female input on it. So he settles for asking the cashier what she thinks, kind of how like I settle for asking the Home Depot guy what kind of refrigerator I should get.

There's nothing wrong with a guy baking or a girl installing a light fixture, but to me, it seems like a key element is missing. Call me old fashioned. Am I the only one who thinks this way? Are there any other girls who have a pair of man pants folded up and put in a drawer for when you need them? Any men out there who need my help picking out pillows for their living room?


P.S. Mad props to my cousin Jason, who mowed my lawn last week in exchange for some freshly baked oatmeal apple cookies.