The Man of my Dreams

Last night I watched an older movie called "Jack."  This is the one with Robin Williams, where he plays a boy with an unusual disorder where he ages four times as quickly as a normal human.  After being home schooled for the earliest years of his life, Jack enters fifth grade as a 40-year-old man instead of a 10-year-old.  After some social-misfit scenes, Jack manages to gain acceptance with his peers by virtue of his proficiency at basketball, and presumably they all come to love him for what's underneath his "giant" exterior. That's the main story.  But here's my personal takeaway -- make of me as shallow as you will...

There is a scene where the 5th grade boys - Jack among them - are all up in a tree house being, well, boys.  They're reading Penthouse. Eating gross combinations of food. Burping loudly. And taking turns farting into a can with a lid. And then sniffing it.

I'm sorry. That's just one too many disgustings for me.  I mentioned this to my husband this morning and asked whether boys really do this.

BIG,  SMUG SMILE ON HIS FACE.  "Yep. Absolutely."

Now,  I ask you.  Is it any wonder why some women have such a disconnect to their men after they get to know them well?  Or men to their women for that matter?  There we are at 10 years old, polishing our nails, practicing hairstyles and sewing dresses for our dolls. (Ok I was a tomboy so I was also climbing trees and riding minibikes while sewing those dresses, but still...) practicing kissing pillows and all of that, and our future Prince Charmings are preparing themselves for us by FARTING INTO CANS???

Someone is bound to occasionally be disappointed in these adult pairings.  (Phwhat? No Penthouse? No burping? No toilet seat up?)

I'm not judging. I'm just saying. There's might not be truth in advertising.