Forewarning; Don't bring your sexist woes here. This is pertaining to my life specifically and I'm happy with it so don't be twisting my words and getting all offended because I'm defining gender roles. Don't do it. No. Stahp.
Randomly, a few weeks ago, my husband had an outburst about the stupidity of salad spinners. I believe we were in Bed, Bath, and Beyond perusing the aisles for one last thing to buy with our leftover, wedding gift-card money. In the kitchen area we passed some pretty, neon green salad spinners and Mark spouts off on a rant; "these are the stupidest invention ever" and "I just don't understand" being his main complaints. I'm just smiling and letting him steam because I don't want a salad spinner so it's okay that he hates them. But then he mentions the tiny amount of time it takes to toss a salad and I stop to look at him.
He looks back at me.
His face goes blank and I inhale slowly.
"Salad spinners aren't for tossing the salad, honey."
His face remains blank.
"It's so you can rinse the lettuce and veggies, stick 'em in one bowl and fling the excess water off using centrifugal force."
"Oh. Well, that's kinda cool."
We still don't own a salad spinner, though.
[because this is apparently a thing I'm doing now]
Another reason I'm the woman....
So here's me this morning, flinging clothes about trying to find my white shrug that works with any freaking outfit. It's the most versatile thing in my closet, fo realz. Mark's laying in bed cuz he got the rest of the week off for "good behavior", aka doing a buttload of work and really impressing the higher ups (he's pretty great, I know), and he goes,
"Whatcha lookin' for honey?"
"This!" I exclaim as I hold it up triumphantly and begin to pull it on.
"Haha, it's not a shawl."
"It's a shawl with sleeves."
"So basically any shirt then?"
"No, shirts go down past your waist."
"Shawls can get pretty big too, ya know."
"Those are just blankets."
So there you have it. Shawl, shirt, or blanket. There is no in between.