Women talk, men don’t listen

Guilty as charged. That’s my standard response whenever a woman accuses me of not listening.

It’s my best defence, unless of course the woman is wearing a uniform and has the authority to slap a pair handcuffs on me.

Here I must stress I’m not referring to that sexy, exciting way some women handle their handcuffs, legs stretched, back arched… Stop! Sies! None of that!

I’m talking long arm of the law. Then I don’t even think about using the word guilty. Not again anyway, but that’s a story for another day.

Today I’m focusing on the merits and demerits of not listening to women. For me, it feels like I live under constant threat of this accusation.

Unsurprisingly so, I guess, considering I have three daughters, a wife, a sister and a mother all seeking an ear for their 16  000 daily words. And I only have two.

Now, I cannot speak on behalf of other men, but I do understand from all my mates that it does seem to be a common thread in relationships.

Women talk. Men don’t listen. Argument. Tears. Promises. Buy expensive gift. Repeat. It’s sort of the instruction manual for men.

With that said, can you imagine my shock and horror the other day when I got a scolding for listening to a woman.

There I was in a queue at the bank when two women fell in behind me, immediately going to work using every one of their allotted daily words twice.

It was the usual. Those conversations where men just pick up a few key words every now and then through the incessant babble. You know “ …to die for… hair… mother-in-law…. and then I said… noooo! ….”

Trust me, I wasn’t listening. On the contrary, I wanted nothing more than for them to keep quiet.

But on they went, “ …and you know how Bev is… an affair… better than Botox…”

That night, as I related my ordeal, I got it from all sides.

The accused can listen to strangers, but not to the women in his life.

Me, listen? Damned if I do and damned if I don’t.

Danie Toerien.

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