I Got This

Why is it that whenever impending doom perches on your shoulder like Cinderella’s bluebird, the man of the house will say, “Trust me. I got this.”

Is that a Man Term for, “Flying monkeys are on the horizon! We’re all going to die!”

Other languages have masculine or feminine nouns. English has entire phrases. If you happen to overhear a conversation beginning with, “Hey man, look what I can do!” not only is it masculine, the country’s defense code has just moved up to Defcon Four. On the other hand, if you hear, “We really need to talk,” the phrase is feminine and there’s imminent nuclear war on the horizon.

If I had a daughter, I would teach her that the hearing the words “Trust Me” is an indication she should take the little poison pill in her secret spy ring because the game’s up.

Don’t get me wrong. I love men. I married two of them and only threw one back. I raised two boys without calling 911 once unless you count the time Son One threatened to notify Emergency Services after the broccoli incident.

But if the roof is leaking and I hear one of my guys say, “Don’t worry, I got this,” I pull out the lifejackets and cover the couch in plastic because there’s going to be a flood through the living room shag that Noah would be proud of.

Yesterday, as I was peeling the potatoes for dinner, the ice maker in the refrigerator began to leak, the dishwasher pitched in with a Ka-Thunk noise, and the microwave produced an array of pops and sparks. I didn’t bother to wait for the guys to spring into action.

“I got this!” I screeched, drove a For Sale Sign in the front yard, and went out to dinner.