...and the Drama Award goes to...

I'd like to thank my husband, my sister, my children, and a certain friend, for making this the most incredibly stressful and confusing week ever. There have been ups and downs, misunderstandings, death threats, and a few extra holes and dents in my house, but we made it, and we're all better for it - so I propose a toast -

Testosterone, anyone?

What is it about men that makes them raise their guard at the sight of another man, pounding their chests and grunting incoherent things that are supposed to assert their alpha-maleness, frighten potential threats and make females swoon? I get that there's a caveman deep in the heart of every man, but I draw the line at poo flinging.

And what is it about women that makes them think they have to fix everything, play middle man without permission, all the while stressing themselves out a billion times worse - unneccesarily, at that - than the original people involved? Don't get me wrong, I'm a female and I know how much it sucks to see people you care about fighting or hurt, but from a logical standpoint, does it not seem just a bit counter-productive?

While I'm at it, what the hell is the deal with the toilet seat issue? Is it really that hard for a woman to remember to put it back down if a man has to remember to put it up?

I guess that's yet another unanswerable question of the universe, like "what is the meaning of life," "why is the sky blue," and "who the hell does Tom Cruise think he is, anyway?"

So in closing I just want to say that I love you all, but dammit, you make me crazy. I accept this Darwin award with much adoration and respect for each of you - but next time, keep the chest pounding, poo flinging, and overprotective interventions to a bare minimum.

There's only so much Dr. Phil and drywall putty can do.