I'd like to explain another difference between men and women. The storytelling. This, my friends, is a true story:
This is what happened when I lost my driver's license and the way I explained it to Scott. The women's way:
"I went to dragonboat practice and knew I dropped my driver's license. How? I showed a friend that I had stuck it in my pfd because we got a notice not to leave valuables in our cars. When I got home it wasn't there and I looked everywhere so I was positive I dropped it at the club.
The next day I swung into action. I called and found out when and where to get a new one. I went to the place before work and pulled the number 27 when I got there. I looked up and saw that the screen said "30". Sweet! I was at the Ministry of Transport (notorious for taking all day) and it was taking less than 15 minutes!
So I paid the $10 and signed all the papers and made my way to work. After work when I home I parked the car in the driveway, opened the door and promptly stepped on my driver's license. Yup, I had dropped it on the drive and it was there all the time."
This is how I tell a story. I paint a picture, frame it and hang it on the wall. About halfway through the story, Scott frustratedly asked me to get to the point. In a nice way, of course. I had to shut him down and continue with my long version because that's the way the story sounds best to me. This is one of the reasons why he doesn't read my blog, I'm sure. Too rambly.
I'm sure he'd have preferred this version:
"I thought I lost my driver's license yesterday but I found it on the driveway this afternoon after I signed up for a new one."
But where's the fun in that? Men.