I don’t understand men but I am amused by them

Men. You gotta love ‘em, but I’ve heard it said many times that boys are several years behind girls when it comes to maturity. Supposedly they catch up when they hit their 20s, but I certainly haven’t seen any proof of it. With six North Idaho sons and a husband disproving the theory at every turn, it’s no wonder I’m skeptical.

I read the book “Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus” about 10 years ago. It basically says in a nutshell, we’re different. So different in fact, that we could be from separate planets. We think differently, act differently and have completely different emotions. Many of the things guys think are fun would puzzle most women. The things women enjoy, most men would find a pain. Be warned, all of my examples are completely one-sided.

For instance, a few years back my family went elk hunting with friends. When the men came back after the morning hunt, we went for a ride in the mountains killing time until the afternoon hunt. We pulled over near the top and stood at the edge looking out at the gorgeous scenery. Larch trees were already turning a burnished gold, and the air smelled fresh. It was beautiful, relaxing – until…

For some reason I’m not quite clear on, every guy must pee over a cliff. I believe there is some manly call, however silent to women, that they cannot ignore. They must pee off the mountain. We girls tried to ignore them and enjoy the beauty below when we suddenly heard thunderous crashing. The guys had found a huge boulder and rolled it off the mountain. Apparently, to a man this is hilarious. The six boys and two men watched the boulder roll and bounce down the mountainside laughing so hard their faces turned purple. Every time it crashed into a tree they laughed twice as hard. By the time it hit the bottom they were all racing for more rocks. They scared away every elk within a 15-mile radius. We women stood there completely baffled. Is our inner child that far gone or is theirs on crack? It’s a boulder. It’s a boulder on a mountain. It’s a boulder on a mountain, and gravity. Any questions? I mean, come on. Where’s the humor? Where’s the fun?

And why is it guys laugh until they cry when they see someone get hit in the groin in a movie? Think about it. Most comedies have some poor guy getting smacked with a ball or a bat or a bird – OK, that one was far-fetched, but at least a bird flying into his zipper would be original. But guys have seen this a thousand times and they laugh just as hard every single time they see it. It’s not funny any more, it’s cliché.

Here’s one that really stumps me: Men can walk around with food hanging off their faces and not notice it. I’m not talking a crumb or tiny speck. I mean a quarter teaspoon of mayo in the corner of their mouths when they eat a sandwich. A dollop of froth stuck to the tip of their noses when drinking root beer floats. And after eating a s’more my nephew had enough cracker, marshmallow and chocolate plastered to his face to make another one. How can they not feel this?

Which brings me to the butt-crack people. Why can’t they feel the breeze blowing through their backside cleavage? Why must the rest of us be forced to look at that? I’m always tempted to drop a coin inside like a piggy bank. Two people in my own household are the greatest offenders.

What about potato guns? Men love to wedge a hunk of tater into the end of a potato gun barrel, add a CO2 cartridge and fire hard, juicy chunks of spuds at each other. And the winner is the guy with one usable eye left.

Have you ever been to Octoberfest at Green Bluff? I’ll wager a woman didn’t think up that giant cannon to shoot pumpkins to the next farm. Could that be how the feud with the Hatfields and McCoys got started? Some idiot shot a pumpkin out of a cannon and killed the neighbor’s cow? Maybe that’s why the headless horseman carries a pumpkin under his arm. Poor guy, riding along minding his own business when out of nowhere a flying pumpkin knocks his head off.

Like I said to begin with, guys are supposed to catch up with women in maturity in their 20s. I haven’t seen any proof of it. But I have to admit, they are amusing to watch.