Forward Friday - Male Language Dictionary

As a follow-up to my Female Language Dictionary post, I felt it was only fair to offer an alternate point of view.

Really the husband was using my post to refine his smart ass skills and I needed some ammo.

So enjoy! I know I did.

Male Language Dictionary

I'm hungry - I'm hungry

I'm sleepy - I'm sleepy

I'm tired - I'm tired

Nice dress - Nice cleavage!

I love you - Let's have sex now

I'm bored - Do you want to have sex?

What's wrong - I guess sex tonight is out of the question

I love you, too - Okay, I said it...we'd better have sex now!

May I have this dance? - I'd eventually like to have sex with you

Can I call you sometime? - I'd eventually like to have sex with you

Do you want to go to a movie? - I'd eventually like to have sex with you

Can I take you out to dinner? - I'd eventually like to have sex with you

Will you marry me? - I want to make it illegal for you to have sex with other guys

Let's talk - I am trying to impress you by showing that I am a deep person so that you'll have sex with me

I don't think those shoes go with that outfit - I am gay

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The child in all of us

I exited my mommy car, collecting the key essentials and shoving them back in my purse as I placed my foot on the ground. Keys, chap stick, sunglasses, blackberry, coupons; things that always seem to end up on the passenger seat when I'm driving.

I tripped the motion sensor of the sliding doors, grabbed a shopping car and headed to the produce section. First on my "gotta get" list was bananas. Followed by strawberries, potatoes, green beans and then finally melons. I always saved melons for last, because they are by far the most perplexing fruit to purchase. Very difficult to quantify their quality due to their tough, bumpy exterior. Kinda like a man in that aspect; you gotta kind knock, shake, listen and press just the spots to find out if it's worth keeping.

As I made my approach to the melon stand, I saw a woman about my age scanning the produce display. I stood next to her and begin conducting my own initial assessment. Finally selecting what I judged to be an excellent specimen.

I reached across my body, extending my arm toward the melon when our hands touched and landed on my melon. I gave a sharp intake of breath, smiled and chuckled just slightly. Apparently both our "melon detectors" had exceptional taste.

I didn't remove my hand, it was mine. Although neither did she. We each were staking our territory on the melon stand.

I smiled quickly and reached with both hands for the melon.

She leaned forward, placing her weight on the melon to prevent me from removing it. I gritted my teeth slightly, forced a smile and tugged on the melon. She reached, grabbing the melon with both hands, hoisted it into the air and also began tugging in an attempt to dislodge it from my grasp.

I shouted "Mine!" and gave a tug.

"Mine, Mine, Mine, Mine!" I shouted as I tugged again.

She leaned forward and growled "Mine!" back at me.

And there we stood, two 30 year old women, in the middle of the produce section, fighting over a $1.99 melon.

Sounds ridiculous right?

Good thing toddlers grow out of the "Mine" phase.

Could you imagine if they didn't?

Ya me either.

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Male firefighters come equipt with their own firehoses

I was wet.

Damp really.

But I wasn't wet like I'd stood in the front lawn under the sprinkler on a hot mid-summer day.

More like I'd received a sprinkle from the arch of water cascading across the yard.

Worse yet, it wasn't water at all. It was pee. I'd been peed on. Again.

Tyler had just snuggled up next to me when I felt a warm sensation on my side. He'd sat just right so that the stream of pee escaped out the top of the diaper and trickled down my shirt.

I don't know why I was surprised. After 2 1/2 years, I'd been peed on more than I'd ever thought was possible.

Early on, the concept of "springing a leak" was foreign to me. I'd change every diaper without a second thought. Until the first time it happened.

I detached the each side flap and folded down the front. I looked away and as I reached over for a baby wipe, I felt something dribble across my head, down my forehead and drip onto my chest.

I looked up, wiped my forehead with the back of my hand and realized Tyler was peeing. Straight up. With perfect aim at my head.

I screamed. Why? Because I'm a girl. Because it'd never happened before. Because I'd been caught off guard and was stunned. Because for a split second I had to consider the fact that I might be on candid camera.

It took me a good minute to collect myself, finish the diaper change, and head into the bathroom to towel off.

I called the husband to relay the events. He burst out laughing and had to hang up. He was still laughing about it when he came home that night.

About a week later the husband was on diaper duty when it happened to him.

I just stood outside the room and chuckled to myself.

Wouldn't be the last time either one of us would receive a "yellow shower"

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