If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself

[Editor’s Note: Humor Editor James Whitaker made a request that a representative of the Rover’s female readership write a response to his November piece, in which he struggled to articulate what little he knows about women. He is thrilled to have received Ms. Stout’s illuminating response, which may prove an aid to all bachelors in fulfilling the “gnōthi sauton.” Her response is published below.]

Despite being confronted with the reality that men do in fact exist, I find that I have come to only one conclusion based on my experiences with them. Men are like puppies—sometimes endearing, occasionally infuriating, and normally doing something that makes the girls scratch their heads. Last semester, the Rover Humor Editor wrote a piece on the alleged difficulty men have in understanding women. The feeling is mutual. But while I’m no Marcus Aurelius protégé, I am a lover of the hit rom-com 10 Things I Hate About You. So, because my female mind is so terribly incapable of meditating upon the mysteries of the masculine attitude in a similar style, I will take a page out of Kat Strafford’s book and write a poem of the ten things I despise (adore?) about men:

I hate the way they never get a clue,
Searching high and low, their efforts askew.
I hate the way they never read the signs,
Missing cues, never reading between the lines.

I hate the way they think they know it all,
But show them up, and they will start to stall.
I hate the way they never ask for help,
Struggling alone, like some sad little whelp. 

I hate the way they can procrastinate,
Putting off tasks until it is too late.
I hate the way they overcomplicate,
Simple things can become drawn out debates. 

I hate the way they obsess over maps,
And the Roman Empire until I nap.
I hate when you say you think of “nothing”
It leaves me wishing for at least something. 

I hate when you leave certain things unsaid,
Leaving us wondering what’s in your head
“But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you,
Not even close, Not even a little bit, Not even at all…”

After about twenty-two years of existing in a world with men, I’ve unfortunately reached the depths of the meditation I can do. I’m not paid nearly enough (precisely $0) to do both the Rover’s layout and contemplate men—I’ll go back to baking and reading my 37th book of the year…

Madelyn Stout is a soon-to-be Notre Dame alumna and the proud daughter of a father. As a response of sorts, she would like someone to tell the Rover’s Humor Editor, James Whitaker, that he has indeed met a woman who does not like mango: herself. If any man would like to mansplain men to her, reach her at mstout2@nd.edu

Photo Credit: Matthew Rice

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