Men, gotta love ’em. Whatever would happen if we gave them the remote to our world?
They would start with our cosmetics. Cherry chiffon or peppermint twist lip gloss would be replaced by new flavors: pork-rinds-and-hot-sauce, or buffalo-wings-and-beer.
Oh, but wait! They’re just flexing their manly muscles. Next on their list, new fragrances. Soon, our honeys would have us dabbing on eau de woodsmoke, slathering on steak-drippings shower gel, or spritzing on cowhide-leather body mist.
Cosmetics conquered, they would make over our malls. Sandwiched between Victoria’s Secret, Chico’s, and Coldwater Creek would be rifle ranges, fishing ponds, putting greens, race tracks, and calf-roping arenas. Out would go those unyielding wooden-slat benches in favor of Lazy-Boys and giant t.v. screens. For an hourly fee, they could even rent a dog to scratch behind the ears as they leaned back for their Sunday afternoon nap.
And speaking of shopping, wedding registries would not go untouched. Bridegrooms would be offered their own choices in bed linens — flannel-lined or goose down sleeping bags by Eddie Bauer. And flatware — a Swiss Army knife including a tool for digging Vienna Sausages out of the can. Glassware? Nothing but the finest — quart-sized Mason jars.
But it won’t stop there. Coming soon — men’s book clubs. The entry will be two sentences, tops.
Men…bless their hearts.