Sunday, November 10, 2013

Momma's Curse: We've Only Just Begun (Part 2)


(If you missed Part 1, you can read it here.)

There is a ligament that connects the cochlea, located in the inner ear, to the male reproductive organ. From the earliest stages of development, the male species is unable to process multiple female signals simultaneously. 

Picture it...you go into little Jimmy Jam's room in the morning to find him staring at his crotch and screaming like a banshee. It's the moment every little boy experiences, where he thinks his 'little friend' has rigor mortise. They scream. They cry. They want to know who killed their best friend. If you listen closely, you’ll notice that when they are focusing on their appendages, they will not hear a word you say.

 “Momma, what’s wrong with it?! Is it gonna fall off? I want my daddy!” During this time, you could be promising them a PlayStation 4, reading the Declaration of Independence, or reciting the third act of Macbeth in Hebrew:  it will not matter. When the male species is focused on one, the other is moot.

Once young men reach puberty and eventually begin dating, the condition becomes more significant. 

However, to all the single ladies out there, you have a very small window of opportunity that you'd better grab like the last $5 Christmas tree on Black Friday. When the male attempts to woo the female, he learns that he must occasionally choose auditory processing over their, um, primal instinct. 

On the first date with a beautiful young lady, for example, your average male will become interested in some things like never before:
·         Cats and their accessories
·         Chauvinistic Tendencies in 21st century males
·         The Prevalence of Prehistoric Parenting in Pigskin Parrish
·         Hormonal Typhoons in Greeklandia

At this phase of the relationship, the male will listen like his life depends on it. If she asks him a question, his chances of answering coherently grow exponentially... to approximately 43%.

Ladies, let me give you a piece of advice. 

When you give the goods away, the deafness comes to stay. 

Now, I’m not trying to get all up in your business here, but scientifically, I am obligated to provide evidence of my theory. It doesn't matter if you are a 35-year-old newlywed that's never held hands before, or the promiscuous campus hostess known as Round-Heeled Rebecca:  when you give the goods away, the deafness comes to stay. Once the male’s focus has relocated to Ecuador, anatomically speaking, the frontier land between their ears may as well have a "For Sale By Owner" sign. Until she learns how to grunt, pour, fetch, fry, and woo in his language, her words will never again be properly synthesized.

What does this have to do with Momma’s curse? At this stage of development, when momma’s start dispersing the curse like a Splash Mountain of holy water, this young man will choose to stop visiting the northern frontier land altogether, and move to Ecuador to be in the Piece Peace Corps. He has abdicated his role as Chief S.O.S., or Somewhat Observant Son, and taken on the role of CEO of Dude-She-Wants-Me-I-Gotta-Pop-My-Pecks-Beer-Me-Brah, Inc. 

Whether you’re in Luxembourg or Baton Rouge, men cannot hear you once their circuit board heads south of the border. No matter how many times you chant the curse, they will not hear you. Ladies, when you marry these young South American Romeo’s, there won’t be a stamp on their forehead that says “Cursed:  Return to Sender”. You will be oblivious to the curse until it’s too late.

My mother-in-law passed away before I met my husband, but I like to think that if I did get to meet her on this side of the tracks, I would throw myself at her feet, and cry “Dear, sweet woman, why hast thou afflicted thy offspring with such a curse? Surely, no man raiseth the monsters of his own accord; he doth require the hand of a housemaid. Why hast thou bound thee with such evils?”

When you see your children submit videos to YouTube, and they respond by sending a uniformed officer to your door, thank the curse.

When your child gives himself a black eye while sitting on the couch watching Sponge Bob, thank the curse.

When your precious baby girl drops a word that would make Andrew Dice Clay shrink in embarrassment, thank the curse.

When your child packs their own lunch and finishes off their meal by chugging their flask full of Hi-C, thank the curse.

When you haven’t made it through a dinner without threatening to inflict bodily harm in more than 5 years, thank the curse.


If one of your children has ever corrected another child on the proper grammatical usage of a word on the soap list, thank the curse. 

By the way, y'all, I never understood the whole ‘wash their mouth out with soap’ thing, but dad gum it, it really works! We like to use Dove because it’s pure, and will leave the inside of their cheeks well hydrated without leaving film or residue. Since they're gonna lie about brushing their teeth later, I can at least do my part to take care of their chompers. 

With the Dove treatment, it took exactly twice to knock the message home. It won’t make them sick and it won’t poison them, but it will make them seriously reconsider their choice of words next time. The funny, I mean ironic, part is that when they get to spit the soap out, the first thing they want to do is rinse their mouth out with water…which rather expeditiously turns them into a Maytag...and what woman can't use an extra pair of hands in the laundry department?

TO BE CONTINUED...(It was a long weekend!)

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