Men... We have been told a bunch of mess since we were little. We were told that it doesn't matter if you win or lose but how you play the game. (Although that's true to a certain point, it has its limitations. Like say... the lottery. Or... like the Super Bowl. Or, even a game of chicken. You can play those games as well as you want but it's really important thing is that you actually win!) We were also told that if you keep making that face it will stick that way. NOT TRUE! (At least I hope this one is not true. I have at least one child who makes some... interesting faces. I will leave it at that.) We were also told that money doesn't grow on trees. (The government dispells this myth every single day. After hearing about the budget I'm 100% certain that there is a money tree somewhere! I just need to find me some money seeds!) But I'm not here to talk about any of those. I'm here to talk about the BIGGEST myth of all. The myth that size doesn't matter. (Some of you are ready to stop reading my blog here. And some of you are anxiously waiting to read on. One of these 2 groups is really going to be disappointed. But you will need to read on to figure out which one that is.)
I don't even know why we (men) fool ourselves. Even the ancients knew the importance of size. Imagine how the storied history of Egypt would have been altered had the GREAT Pyramid was just been average or small. We would never even have heard of it. What about the EMPIRE State Building? It once stood as the TALLEST building in the world. That record lasted for 40 years. But the title couldn't last forever. Our infatuation with size doomed this marvel of American ingenuity into a mere footnote in the annals of record breaking building heights. And lets not forget about the Titanic. Would there have been countless movies, books and deep sea excursions if the ship had been named the Dinky (maybe) or the Pee Wee (probably not) or the Scrubby (not sure about that one)? I mean, the smaller the ship the less of a chance you would even hear about its tragic end. (The only exception to this one would be the S.S. Minnow. (Bonus points if you know about that famous ship wreck without doing a search.)) So, with size being such a very important part of everything else, why not this?
After much research on the subject of size I have found out that the average is 6. 8 is pretty big. 10 is just HUGE. And there are those very, very rare occasions when you find a 12 (or higher, Yikes!). And, unfortunately, for every 8, 10 and 12... you find a teeny, tiny little 4. And this brings me to the crux of my story. I didn't want to admit this because I'm a little ashamed. This is much worse than admitting my fear of horses. (I'm only telling my blogger family about this so let's keep between us OK? Thanks.) But, believe it or not, I'm a 4! And, the only thing worse than being a 4 your whole life is going from being an 8 down to being a 4. (That really stinks.) But there's even something worse that that... I'm a 4 and my wife is an 8! How in the world did THAT happen?
I'll tell ya how that happened! I went from driving a Ford Expedition (BIG powerful V8) to driving a Ford Explorer (respectable V6) down to driving a Honda Civic (a freakin' 4 cylinder baby car)! And now my wife is driving the Expedition. Some things I pass off as the universe righting itself and some things are just plain wrong. Writing this has upset me to the point that I'm going to split this up into 2 parts. (Ironically, 2 parts is what you could split my wife's engine into and each part would still be bigger than mine.) So I will see you all in the next part.
(To be continued...)
P.S. Make sure no one tells Spuds about this. I'm sure he will have some words to say after the ribbing I gave (and still give) him about driving a minivan.