The Y Factor


Chromosomes.

They make us what we are. They determine what we look like, our future health, pretty much everything. This includes our ability to find things apparently.

MJ has his first behind the wheel driver’s ed session this morning. We are instructed to bring his permit – check, and his original application that posed as his permit until his official card came in the mail – unchecked.

In great mommy fashion, I like to make sure we are not running around like chickens without a head right before we leave so I tell him that he needs to find it…LAST NIGHT. And what do you think happened? Did he go look then? If he did then hell must have frozen over and I don’t see any demons coming up top to warm up in the cuddly new blanket of snow we got last night.

So…I ask him this morning.

“Did you find it?”

“Ummmmmm…..”

“Where did you look? Did you look in the cars?”

“Uh, I can’t find my wallet either.” His wallet is where his permit card is, btw.

Well, his wallet I can help with since Devil Dog gently brought it to me the other day. The yellow piece of folded up paper? Not so much.

“So, did you look in the cars?”

He goes and looks in both cars.

“Uh…I can’t find it.”

Shit, damn, shit!

We tear the recycling bin apart thinking we may have thrown it in there because we are green like that…

Still no sign of the elusive yellow paper.

So I do what any mom would do when her kid can’t find what they are looking for…I go out to the car and look myself.

Why? Because I have this compulsion habit to not believe that he really looked as well has he should have.

A) because he is notorious for not seeing things

B) because he has that Y chromosome

So I trudge through 5 inches of snow out to the garage because my dear, dear Rambo didn’t want to have an attached garage. Can we say dumbass together? DUMBASS!

Open the door, open the center console and move 1 crumpled up donut bag. And what do I see? A yellow slip of paper. Yeah. Underneath HIS crumpled donut bag. Seriously, it wasn’t mine. I hide the remnants of my secret donut runs so much better than that.

I walk back to the house to show him his missing paper permit.

“Did you move the bag?”

“Uh. Yeah, but I didn’t see it. It must have been hiding!”

“Hiding. IN PLAIN SIGHT!”

I am just glad that it wasn’t me that lost it or threw it out. FYI…In Minnesota, even if you have gotten your official permit that looks like a license…do not throw away that little piece of yellow paper. You may need it to start your behind the wheel lessons. DUMB!

Now I am all paranoid about throwing away MY renewal piece of yellow paper…

Seriously though? What is it in that Y chromosome thread that just makes the male species so obliviously blind to things that are right in front of them. If there is one thing that is blocking 50% of the item they are looking for they can’t find it. Rambo is the same way. Is there just some part of their brain that doesn’t process something if it’s not in its whole form?

And they wonder when they ask the question of me…

“Have you seen XYZ?”

I just get up and find it for them…because I know in 5 minutes after being asked that question that I will be up looking for it anyway. I see it as a time saver.

How about at your house? Are you the finder in your house and is it worse with the XY species? I really want to know. Because if I am the only one, I need to kick some ass…they are playing me for a fool.

Let me know!

~Sassy