Classic Boy

Still from the long weekend… but this story deserved its own special post… I think women everywhere will agree with me.  This is classic.

We all know that boys like to complain that girls take too long to get ready.  “I take 10 minutes” they boast.  I pay little attention to these claims.  I really don’t care that you take 10 minutes.  Society puts a lot more pressure on me and my appearance than it does you.  Tell me how long it takes you once you require a 10 step make-up process before it’s suitable for you to leave the house.  Or grow your hair to your shoulders and let’s see how long it takes you to dry and style it.  Talk to me then.

Like most girls, I’ve got a work morning routine, a weekend morning routine, and a special occasion routine.  Needless to say the latter is the longest and most involved.   Since we were off to a  wedding – I thought I’d try to look nice.

So, I start getting ready first.  “You take longer” he says, “so you shower first.”   That’s true I do take longer, I will shower first.  No problem.  Once I’m done I grab all of my hair products and dryer and move to the bedroom to get ready.  Makes sense,  he needs to shower so I’ll do my hair while he’s occupying the bathroom.  Fine.  He comes to the bedroom pulls out his suit and asks me if the shirt he has worn to the last event needs to be ironed.  The answer is of course, Yes.  Grumbling – boy goes to iron his shirt.

Look at this bathroom... does this look like there's room for two?

Hair done. Bathroom should be defogged – move to the bathroom to do my makeup.   Looking at my dress I decide that since the iron is out and on, I should press my dress.  I leave it in the kitchen where the boy is ironing (please note that the Boy could have ironed my dress while he was ironing his shirt – I would have done it for him – but he didn’t, not malicious probably didn’t even occur to him… boys).  I proceed with makeup.  I am at about step 5 when I turn back to the mirror and the Boy has swooped in and is doing his hair in the bathroom mirror.  I ask myself, “Do you require perfect lighting for this task?”  But I figure he’s just putting the goop in washing his hands and he’ll be out of my way in a few seconds.  Nope.  He proceeds to play and mold his hair while I am standing there, concealer in hand.  After about 5 minutes, I say – “Can you do this somewhere else – there are other mirrors you know.”  He looks at me slightly affronted, and leaves.

Step 10, mascara wand in hand.  We’re at the home stretch.  In swoops the boy – apparently, it’s time to brush his teeth.  Now.  This cannot wait 45 seconds.  It must be done now.  I wait.  I make some remark about why this can’t wait said 45 seconds.  He claims there’s lots of room for me.  There’s not.

Makeup done.  I iron my dress.  Get dressed, pack my purse, put on my shoes, grab my extra shoes for when I can no longer feel my feet,  and just when I’m thinking I’m going to get a “Wow” from the Boy when I go out to show him what the last hour has created… he comes in and gives me the look, “Are you ready yet?”

I lose it.  “I would have been ready about 10 minutes ago if you’d just stay out of my way.  It takes girls longer.  Cry.  I’d say I’m worth the wait.”

Boy – “Yes, worth the wait. *kiss on the forehead* Are you ready yet?”

Me – “Yes”*

*Thinking – Bah! Boys… and also – “I’m totally blogging about this”


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