The, I suppose, Reader's Digest Complete Guide to Sewing arrived. The package was in such horrible condition, it was basically just two pieces of paper on each side of the book. Both sides were falling apart, and I didn't even have to harm the paper further to remove it. Shame. The book is huge- bigger than a normal book, anyway, so put away your thoughts on Reader's Digest material. This is nothing like their puny magazine. Or...whatever it is.
Another book came for my Mom, but I don't feel at liberty to disclose the title.
Also, Every Heart Restored arrived. Uhh, however, it is the workbook. So it's, like, for wives in the throws of their husbands' sexual impurities. Which I may never understand. I am really beginning to think something is wrong with me.
The book for parents in the Every Man series of books, preparing your son for every man's battle [sic sic sic], arrived. The only problem is, I didn't order it! Agh! Two wrong books. Actually, my Mom ordered it. Yeah, Mom- about 8 years late. Every Young Man's Battle should show up soon, and it's supposedly more graphic than this book. That's a scary thought.
I read about a fifth of the book today (computer troubles, meaning...lots of idle time babysitting it), and it's so weird. They're going on and on about how men are idiots and can't communicate their feelings, how they're so stupid, but they have ONE redeeming quality: stories! Men relate stories to bond. And that's true.
Yet at the same time ...everything is a story. What isn't a story? What you thought five minutes ago was a story. This I am telling you right now is a story. Telling your spouse something difficult is a story of how you feel.
On and on. "Oh, I can't tell my son that- it'd make me look WEAK!"
Why some men concern themselves with looking weak, I'll never know. By the way, I am a male. It could be easy to mistake me for a female (what does "fe" mean, anyway? It sounds hot!), seeing's how I am talking about how men are pigs.
For example, our Pastor, RJ. He told a story this week of how he's scared to death even to preach to us. He didn't say "some of you- definitely not me- may be scared, but not me, for I am unfear incarnate, and manliness tartar! I am RJ, fearsome, brave, proud pastor! I have no weakness, for I AM GOD!"
No. He admitted his weakness, and for me, that is a very Christian thing. We ARE weak. We're not God. It's not weakness, per se- it's called "humbleness." And I really respect him for it.
I don't know what else to say on this. I will need to talk to my Mom, I suppose. She always has answers for questions- that's something this book is talking about as well. How, well, we have questions (we being the child), but we're not going to ask them. Especially of our parents.
For example, there was a time when I would have, in an honest and open discussion, asked what sex was. Instead, I had to wait until I was sixteen and 11 months, and that was in the store checkout line's magazine rack, resulting in a search of an online dictionary.
[I am joking]
[Seriously, I am]
[I got "the talk" in the back seat of an old mercury grand marquis]
[By my Mom who was driving]
[I was 9 or so]
[That must have been awkward for her]
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