Poor man, never stood a chance…

{ An oldie, but a goodie! Had to post this again because last night my husband got to do something very special. He took our daughter to buy a bra! That’s right folks! I was getting my hair done, and Eldest needed a strapless for Homecoming. He was thrilled… NOT. I’m chuckling the whole time my hair is processing, straight through to the blowout. Ah… good times, good times. I told him he should make it a tradition. Bra shopping once a year with the girls! Funny, he didn’t see the humor in that. *Shrugs* Oh well. Hahahaha. }

My husband lives in a house with three girls. He’s accepting condolences, thank you very much. Now, when the girls were younger, much younger, it was a lovely scene wherever we were. One man, flanked by his “women”, his harem, the girls who adored him like no others would. He’d be struttin’ around like a peacock, preening himself with the knowledge that no other guy had an entourage like him.

Well, just like in a soap opera, nothing stays rosey forever. The girls are growing up, damn it. Suddenly, he finds himself tossed aside like yesterday’s newspaper. Teeny-bobber boys have the audacity to usurp his coveted role in our household. Well, he’s handled that demotion pretty well, I must say. He even chuckles and teases the two of them. And they respond with the obligatory, “Oh Dad! Stop it! I don’t have a crush on Justin Bieber!” or “Ew!  I do not like so an so! Oh my God!” Nicely played, honey.

But now, something darker, more sinister, more frightening has entered our home. A new age is dawning in our household. It is the dawning of the age of HORMONES! Like the phases of the moon change man to werewolf, so too, do the hormones change us women into beastly lionesses! For so long, my honey  had only me to contend with every month. A lovely trip to an alternate universe, to be sure.  But now, as our girls continue to grow up, against our wishes, I might add, they are changing, too.

It’s not pretty. He tries to escape all the time, but we just keep throwing the net over him, and drag him back down with us. Ensnared, he is,  in the  unpredictable world of  erratic emotions. Wading through the muck and mire of screaming voices and slammed doors, he tries every time to sort through who said what and whose feelings are hurt and why. And every time his efforts are fruitless. Before he realizes what’s happened, he’s sucked into yet another hormone-induced cat fight, for which he has no defense. He hasn’t quite learned yet that he will never come out unscathed when mixing it up with three warring hormone-laden girls.

Poor man, he never stood a chance.

But there is hope! He is learning! The computer room is a great place to hide. Doing the food shopping is another brilliant tactic. Getting on the motorcycle for a ride, even better.

Unfortunately for everyone in our semi-peaceful home, darker days loom over the horizon for which there is no escape… menopause.

4 thoughts on “Poor man, never stood a chance…

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