They're Always Touching Their Hammers

My phone rang one night this week and suprise, surprise, my sister-in-law was on the other end. She was out Christmas shopping and needed a few ideas and a couple of sizes confirmed. I was shocked she was out at night. She never goes out at night.

"How did you get out of the house?" I asked her, jokingly.

"I put dinner on the table and told Mike and the boys I was heading out." she answered.

"Wow. That's a rare thing, huh?" I said.

"Yes, it is. Usually I'm in my pajamas by now, but Mike said he isn't doing any shopping this year, so it's all up to me." She sounded overwhelmed.

Later that night, I was recounting the story to my mother and told her about how my sister-in-law had all this last minute stuff to do. My mother snorted in that wise, I've-been-a-wife-for-over-thirty-years-I-know-exactly-how-she-feels kind of way and said, "Tell me about it."

"Yeah," I said. "And Michael isn't doing any shopping this year."

My mother said, "Guys usually don't. In the thirty years I've been with Frank, I don't think he's ever gone Christmas shopping. They don't shop like women do anyway; women have to look at everything, touch everything."

"I know." I said.

"Men don't shop like that. If a guy needs a hammer, they go into Home Depot, they buy a hammer and they leave. They don't go touching all the hammers."

Well, thank God for that. If they did, they'd be there all day.


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