Cleaning the Gender Divide
The gender divide is an interesting one. Even when I make a conscious effort to refrain from generalizing, something occurs to remind me once again, that men and women just do things differently. And it’s not even the “big stuff” it’s how we approach the little things, that somehow provide us each with a sense of purpose, like cleaning for example.
I had the opportunity to experience it in full affect during a night out with guests. Three women. Three men. BBQ. Within moments of arrival, the line between the two genders split like a Ginsu knife to a tomato. Guys took off to the patio outside, women congregated inside the kitchen. Guys talked about party stories, girls talked about cute outfits. A typical scenario we not only know well, but also expect. Thus, nothing really sparked my analysis sensors, until an incident occurred in the kitchen where us girls were chattin’.
My friend walked in, and just happen to spill his drink, from cup to floor, right in front of us. No big deal, but the event caused us to stop talking and pay attention. It wasn’t the spill, it was his reaction. Had he just reverted back to a seven year old? He looked at the puddle on the floor, then looked up at us, knowing that he should probably do something with it, but wasn’t too sure what. Seemed a little confused, nervous almost. Did he think he was going to get in trouble? Although, I am fairly certain if three women weren’t standing there, he would of left it. But since a sixth sense of the male kind, kicked in, he grabbed the cloth from the sink, tossed it on the floor, and swooshed it back and forth with his foot. Then, with a big smile on his face (proud of his hard work?) picked up the cloth with his toes, threw it back in the sink (to use for the next set of dishes?), and then headed back to the patio, with the rest of the boys.
Now, the three of us didn’t say a word, to him or to one another. We just watched. After he left, like clockwork, without uttering a sound, in a team effort – got the Tilex to scrub the spot out, took the used cloth from the sink, and put it in the laundry. I mean, as if we’d ever use it again on dishes once it had touched the floor. Of course for the guy, he was just impressed that he had the resource of the moment to fix the situation. Wasn’t too concerned on how that cloth would be used in the future, so log as it cleaned up his mess in the moment.
Within seconds, everything was cleaned to our satisfaction, and our conversation was back in rhythm without missing a beat. When we noticed our response, we started laughing. How strange it was, that all of us were familiar with the dishcloth foot wipe on the floor - return to sink -for reuse-motion, and furthermore, knew exactly how to respond to it. Apparently it’s a common method in the male world of cleaning. We uncovered that this was not an independent situation, and in fact brothers, fathers, and spouses, were known for the same action. But at least, now a day, men actually make an attempt to remedy the mess, vs. leave it. Perhaps Venus and Mars are evolving. Guys now know…they do need to help in cleaning. And women, well, we just know, even when they help out, we’ll redo it the way we like anyway.
© Desiree Daniel August 19, 2005
I had the opportunity to experience it in full affect during a night out with guests. Three women. Three men. BBQ. Within moments of arrival, the line between the two genders split like a Ginsu knife to a tomato. Guys took off to the patio outside, women congregated inside the kitchen. Guys talked about party stories, girls talked about cute outfits. A typical scenario we not only know well, but also expect. Thus, nothing really sparked my analysis sensors, until an incident occurred in the kitchen where us girls were chattin’.
My friend walked in, and just happen to spill his drink, from cup to floor, right in front of us. No big deal, but the event caused us to stop talking and pay attention. It wasn’t the spill, it was his reaction. Had he just reverted back to a seven year old? He looked at the puddle on the floor, then looked up at us, knowing that he should probably do something with it, but wasn’t too sure what. Seemed a little confused, nervous almost. Did he think he was going to get in trouble? Although, I am fairly certain if three women weren’t standing there, he would of left it. But since a sixth sense of the male kind, kicked in, he grabbed the cloth from the sink, tossed it on the floor, and swooshed it back and forth with his foot. Then, with a big smile on his face (proud of his hard work?) picked up the cloth with his toes, threw it back in the sink (to use for the next set of dishes?), and then headed back to the patio, with the rest of the boys.
Now, the three of us didn’t say a word, to him or to one another. We just watched. After he left, like clockwork, without uttering a sound, in a team effort – got the Tilex to scrub the spot out, took the used cloth from the sink, and put it in the laundry. I mean, as if we’d ever use it again on dishes once it had touched the floor. Of course for the guy, he was just impressed that he had the resource of the moment to fix the situation. Wasn’t too concerned on how that cloth would be used in the future, so log as it cleaned up his mess in the moment.
Within seconds, everything was cleaned to our satisfaction, and our conversation was back in rhythm without missing a beat. When we noticed our response, we started laughing. How strange it was, that all of us were familiar with the dishcloth foot wipe on the floor - return to sink -for reuse-motion, and furthermore, knew exactly how to respond to it. Apparently it’s a common method in the male world of cleaning. We uncovered that this was not an independent situation, and in fact brothers, fathers, and spouses, were known for the same action. But at least, now a day, men actually make an attempt to remedy the mess, vs. leave it. Perhaps Venus and Mars are evolving. Guys now know…they do need to help in cleaning. And women, well, we just know, even when they help out, we’ll redo it the way we like anyway.
© Desiree Daniel August 19, 2005
posted by Desiree Daniel @ 8:44 AM
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