The Doctrine of Women

“In the forty years that I’ve been married, I’ve only apologized to my husband once.”

A 67-year old Grandmother who used to make a living by beating the teeth out of disruptive inmates at the point of the mountain told me that yesterday, and who was I to correct her? 

For full effect, download “Throwin’ Down” by Psychostick and play at maximum volume throughout the duration of this post. 

In the 12 short years that I was raised in a household of estrogen; a household composed of 10 sisters, one Mother, and one vulnerably feminine Father whose eyes would water on cue during most Nike commercials, I was fortunate enough to learn the many rules and regulations that make up the way women work.  Granted, I was surrounded in a household full of mental disorders and unorganized menstrual cycles, but still, I think I got the gist of understanding the mechanics behind a woman’s way of thinking. 

How many men do you know can honestly say that with a straight face?

One of the ultimate truths I gathered from my fellow female inmates, this being separate from the decrees that black pants and brown shoes are a fashion no-no, and that if a woman asks if you think she is fat you should immediately buy her chocolate, the most crucial rule I was told is that a woman, under any given set of circumstances, is never, ever, wrong.  

This puzzled me at first, of course I was only five years old and had that mindset brainwashed into my face from my newest set of stepsisters, how was I to put up a fight?  But over the next few years I had a hard time grasping the idea that regardless of logical, emotional, or physical evidence blatantly proving that a woman was wrong, she wasn’t. And you shouldn’t dare tell her that she was wrong, unless you wanted a broken toaster heaved at your front teeth. 

Why is that? 

Seriously ladies, can any of you reading this please explain to me why you are always correct, no matter what the circumstances are, no matter how illogical your testimony may be, no matter if you’re standing over the tub with a bloody, double-headed axe in your hand, with your spouse lying face first before you, his spinal column gashed wide open, meanwhile a video camera recording every split second of that horrific massacre stands in the corner, why after all of that are you still never wrong? 

This is the part where all of you ladies out there smile at your monitors and say to yourself, ‘It’s because we’re women Brock, and a woman is always right’. After which you’ll unclench your boyfriend’s man jewels and ask him to go buy you some Ben & Jerry’s when he’s done DVR-ing “The Voice”.  But come on, put down your female pride torches and answer me one question, why are you ALWAYS right, and why is a man ALWAYS wrong? 

Don’t ask me why it’s taken me two decades to pose this question to the opposite sex, because honestly, I have no idea whatsoever.  Maybe the fact that I’m 328 miles away from my nearest relative with Tampax in her bathroom played a part in this blogpost, but regardless, I have finally built up the balls to stand up to all of you and demand respect.  

And so what if I’m hiding behind this blogpost for protection rather than confronting you face-to-face, that’s not the point here.  I just want to know for the sake of humanity, why are you always right even if the Supreme Court has ruled against you?  And why do the men always have to be the ones who sleep on the couch after you come home three hours late from your Mary Kay parties, and why after being married for almost 40 years, this 67-year old former prison guard finally told her husband for the very first (and probably last) time in their lives that she was the one in the wrong?

Do you wonder why I’m 28 years old and still single?