X is for XY Chromosome: Missing the Refill/Replace Gene (#atozchallenge)

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I live in a house full of males, in a veritable tsunami of testosterone. Those who are familiar with my blog, know that I have sons. For His own reasons, the dear Lord did not see fit to bestow upon me the gift of daughters and sometimes I can’t help but wonder what life would be like if He had. A whole world of Barbie dolls, pink fairy wings and tulle has passed me by.

Boys are a whole lot of fun. Boys are the gateway to cheeky play, physical nonsense and unrelenting banter. We bond over computers, cars, baseball, soccer, laser tag and we wrestle. I am lucky I have always been something of a tom boy so enjoy all of these types of activities and of course, the bond between mother and son is a rather special one. Male to male bonding is also fascinating to watch. I have observed that the more a male is bonded with another male, the more likely he is to playfully tease said other male. Guys’ currency tends to be mild teasing banter and I can mix it with the best of them. I suppose it’s why I have always had a lot of plutonic male friends.

Life in my house can get rather interesting and at times I do feel like it’s three to one. Me thinks there is a slight conspiracy going on around here. Me versus them in a battle of the chromosomes. The battle is the battle of the refill or replenish and the gladiators are merciless. The battle goes something like this:

    1. One of the drinks of choice for the boys is cordial which is akin to Kool-Aid. Cordial is made up of flavoured sugary syrup diluted in water, about 1 part in 10. As a mother I would of course prefer that my sons drink water or other healthier alternatives, but let’s not turn this into a health debate, because then you’ll miss the point of this post.
    2. The cordial resides in a two litre bottle in the fridge and the boys happily help themselves.
    3. At about the quarter bottle full mark, the boys start pacing themselves with the cordial and carefully watch the reduction in quantity.
    4. They will each take only so much such that there is always some quantity above negligible left in the bottom of the bottle.
    5. The object of course is not to be the last to drink from the bottle to avoid having to refill it and to maximise the chance that I will instead do the job.

This battle is all about precision timing and precision measurement. It’s a game of stealth  and strategy. Who knew that the boys possessed the skills of a scientist without the use of scientific instruments? Skills for life, people…skills for life!

The skills learned in the cordial arena are also applied to kitchen paper towel refill and of course to paper refill in the bathroom. The golden rule seems to be NEVER use the last sheet for he who exposes the cardboard roll will be put to unthinkable effort.  Never mind that there are full rolls within easy reaching distance.

At one point I put up a sign in our kitchen proclaiming “changing the roll will not give you pimples”. It didn’t work.

I’m still changing rolls and making up cordial and have firmly come to the conclusion that the refill/replace gene just does not appear on the XY chromosome. Either that or I have a battle of Darwinian proportions on my hands!

About the curtain raiserhttp://raisingthecurtain.netI have spent my life in offices. For now I am putting that behind me and preparing for the second act. Middle age didn't come with acceptable signposts so I am making my own through my writing. A journey shared is more fun than going it solo.

22 thoughts on “X is for XY Chromosome: Missing the Refill/Replace Gene (#atozchallenge)

  1. Bravo!!! Well said! My husband has always felt this way about the females in our family. He even coerced the breeder that our dear little puppy couldn’t get fixed because he needed all the testosterone he could get. The breeder laughed so hard she agreed with him. Now that one of our daughter’s is married the odds are improving.

    Seriously, don’t know if it is a boy thing, as my daughters did the same thing. I think it is a children thing!

    Love the post!

  2. Love this post and fully relate to it but as the dad of two boys! Of course I can’t do the guys in your family a disservice by revealing whether there is a conspiracy going on here or not but my wife believes there is too.

  3. Hahahaha! I gave up on ever thinking the toilet paper will be replaced by anyone but me. But, I have not given up on the abandoned glass left on a table. I leave notes BEGGING to be brought to the sink. It did work, but it was more exhausting for me to control the urge to o it myself!. Boys are always an adventure… keep enjoying their playful nature.

  4. I’m sending this to Mary. She never understands why I leave one cookie in the package (because I don’t want to be the person that ate the last one). Mom always said that boys were easier to raise, I think because she was raised in a family of six girls and a boy, and her parents had less trouble with him. Of course, my grandfather was a football coach, which might have had something to do with it. Mom had four boys, and never quite figured us out. (Of her seven grandchildren, six are boys; sadly, the girl was born the year that she died.)

    • I’m sorry about the loss of your mother’s grand daughter.

      Ah… so you’re one of those, a last cookie avoider? I would love it if you let me know what Mary’s reaction is.

      • By the way, Mary read this entry and got a laugh out of it. Seems that as old as I get, I never quite grow up; I’m always leaving one cookie or one piece of candy so I can’t be accused of taking the last one. You have three boys, you know what that dynamic is like.

  5. You can go hoarse or you can just keep your peace. I was brought up in a houseful of girls, my father the only male. He got everything done for him and saw no reason why he should do anything because there were so many female hands to take care of things. Ever thought of going on strike?

    • I’ve thought about striking for about 5 minutes, but I think there are bigger battles that need to be won. The old pick the hill you’re going to die on thing. This one isn’t worth dying on.

  6. Growing up, my house was 3 girls and 2 boys. Nobody ever took the last of anything for just this reason. It was the same with my husband who grew up with two sisters. My husband STILL does it — I look in the cupboard and see boxes of stuff that don’t need to be replaced when I go to the store. But they all have one cracker or one something inside. Now I shake boxes of stuff I like and replace as needed. If he wants something replaced, he has to empty the box.

  7. Pingback: Ab ovum ad malum: an #atozchallenge review | The Sound of One Hand Typing

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