This is one of my Christmas gifts this year: My own little tree, to decorate however I dang well please. It’s in the basement, which has a beach theme. I wanted beach ornaments in the worst way, so on Black Friday I bought several at Kohl’s on sale for like $3. It doesn’t have an angel on top. It has a group of singing frogs.
So maybe you picked up on something there: I buy my own Christmas presents. It’s so embarrassing to admit. I’ve shopped for myself for years because I can’t trust my dear, sweet husband to buy me what I want. Which is stupid, because he always does a good job when I let him. He’s chosen some of the best pieces of jewelry I own, stuff I maybe wouldn’t have looked at myself, but I seem to wear all the time. I appear to have lost my capacity for surprises. How did I get to be such a controlling crazy woman? I don’t know. But I always get exactly what I want for Christmas, so what the heck.
What else did I buy myself? A Kindle, a $7 sweater (I love Kohl’s!), and a Dremel tool with some tiny, cute little drill bits. I had to fix a kitchen drawer the other day, and I hate venturing into the man-cave (Rick’s woodshop) for his big drill and 10-pound drill-bit box. I end up with tired wrists, and I never put the tools back in a timely fashion, which irritates Rick. So this Dremel tool is mine. It’s small and easy to use, and if I ever want to grind something, I can.
Why do we women love to make our guy-things cute? Have you seen the flower-patterned hammers and pink-handled screwdrivers at the hardware store? So it’s not just me. I have my own tool box with my own dang tools (none flowered), and I try to fix anything I can. It’s kind of sad that my son learned to change a vacuum belt from his mom, but then again, it’s good for my daughters to see that a woman can take care of her own self. You don’t need a guy to hammer a drawer track straight again. And I sure wouldn’t want my daughters driving around if they didn’t know how to jump a battery and tape up a blown hose. Now if I could convince my son that he could sew a button …
I think of myself as a feminist, which I guess is a term some people don’t like. But to me, “feminism” means being the best “feminine” person you can be. No restrictions. No roadblocks. No assumptions. I can put on my frilliest, prettiest shirt to rewire a lamp.
And I think it’s okay for a man to be a “masculist.” Which wouldn’t mean being a macho jerk. It would mean doing whatever you want to the best of your ability, whether it fits the expected mold of a man or not. Sewing shouldn’t just be something women do. Have you ever handled a pattern before? It’s exactly like a woodworking pattern. Guys should be a natural at sewing. Gender roles can sometimes be very confining, and who wants that, man or woman? Maybe we should make up a new word: Humanist. Oh, yeah. Someone already got that one. Crap.