The Trouble With Girls

I happen to think that all girls are perfect, you know, being one and all. But the world doesn’t always fit the way I do things, and therefor sometimes there is a little trouble.

Tools for one thing are a problem for me, they all tend to run large, man-size. Fixing a fence is a problem when the fencing hammer handles are too big around to be able to squeeze them tightly when pulling staples or putting tension into a wire fence.

Power equipment is another challenge. A simple thing like a lawn mower becomes a challenge when the pull cord is set at the top of the handle and one is expected to pull up another two feet with one hand while gripping the handlebar with the other hand to turn over the engine. My upper body strength is about nil above my shoulders and pulling while gripping becomes a struggle in motion.

Large equipment is a joke. It takes hands bigger than mine to reach around a cuff of a Power Take Off (PTO) shaft and slide the outside cuff back while pushing the inside shaft forward onto the tractor shaft. And then clicking a small round locking bolt into the shaft before sliding the cuff back on creates contortions that are beyond my range.

But the thing that really bothers me is socks. Yes you heard me right, socks. I am furious with socks. I mean, we can put a man on the moon, yet when it comes to a comfortable pair of socks that don’t fall down, or bunch at the toe, or when wearing boots, spinning around my foot with the heel ending up on the wrong side.

And speaking of heels, why can’t I find a pair of socks that are girl-sized so I can wear the heel on my heel instead of halfway up the back of my calf. I have tried kids sized ones, they are too small and way too tight. Lady socks are not tall enough or grip-y enough to stay up above my calf.

I am forced to live with men-sized socks.

A pair of wool socks with holes in the heels.And this is the problem.

Where my heel actually hits the sock wears out quickly and the dark gray stronger heel that was sewn in, still puckers condescendingly halfway up my calf requiring me to wear two pairs of socks just to get coverage for the holes worn in them.

I tend to think that the world needs to change. I seem to be just right.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s