Whenever my mother and I run into a situation which requires the assistance of a man- furniture assembly, car repair, things involving tools- she sighs and says, “We need some testosterone,” and I nod in reply. We don’t like it, but we know it’s true.
Do men ever look at each other, stumped, and admit they “need some estrogen?” Probably not. In what sort of daily circumstance would a man need estrogen?
These last few weeks have been marked by my unfortunate need of testosterone. I am writing about it today because the situation culminated in my failure to carry a bucket of cat litter from my car to the door of my apartment building. It was too heavy. This might be an issue of muscle mass over testosterone, but in either case it left me feeling… silly.
I’m alone, but I’m fine. I’m alone, but I’m fine. This is the refrain. I’m alone, but I’m fine… except when the groceries are too heavy and I can’t figure out how to install the blinds and I have no idea how to build a window screen ad infinitum.
I’m not proud of this girlishness. Did Georgia O’Keefe do her own heavy lifting?
We men really need estrogen on plenty of occasions. Sorry for the stereotyping, but it really does help to have female direction when we need to buy clothes, arrange furniture, or decorate. Really.
