I love my wife. Anyone that knows me, knows that. But, despite our marriage and mutual understanding, she sometimes ends up acting just like a woman.
Saturday morning I got up and found her in a bad mood. So, after years of experience, I stepped lightly, thinking it was my fault. I'd stayed up late and gotten up late as well. She'd had a hard week. And maybe I'd been busy enough that I'd missed something.
I don't miss anniversaries. She'll forget them before I do.
At any rate, I thought maybe she was feeling trapped by the house. So I offered to take her and Chandler to a movie. As we got ready, the truth came out.
Sherry had had a particularly upsetting dream. She'd had a stroke at school. She couldn't speak, could barely breathe, and I hadn't acted like I cared enough during the dream. I'd acted like it was no big deal. In layman's terms, I'd acted like a jerk.
Now mind you, this was all a dream. I was in no way a real participant of the events.
However, that morning I was being held accountable for my dream-self's insensitivity.
Interesting, isn't it?
After the movie, I took her out to eat, apologized for my selfish ways, and everything was fine. As it turns out, she was really aggravated because I didn't seem sympathetic enough to her telling me about her dream.
Of course, when I tell her about my dreams where I get superpowers, she's not suitably impressed either. Kind of a bummer.
I maintain that there are few real differences between women and men, but -- wow -- the ones that are there are doozies!