I have discovered the difference between men and women, and it is not, as some may suggest, that we are from different planets. It has been obvious for generations, yet we have never taken notice. It is simply this - cookie dough.
This revelation occurred to me a few months ago, while shopping at the local grocery with my boyfriend. As we approached the checkout, our conversation somehow turned to cookie making. I told him that the difficult thing about making cookies for women (me, namely) is trying not to devour most of the dough, so that there is actually some in cookie form at the end of the process. There was vehement head nodding from the cashiers on either side of us, as well as from the baggers, all of whom happened to be female. Had we been in a Baptist church, I may have heard a resounding "Amen!" or possibly a few "Allelujahs!"
He stared at me with a look of bewildered incredulity. "Oh, you really shouldn't eat that. You could get salmonella."
Blank gazes gave way to some politely stifled snickers, and I felt instantly protective of this sweet man who could not understand our inexplicable urge to consume spoonful upon spoonful of something that could potentially make us sick.
You see, we are not ignorant, nor are we stupid. However, there is something in our nature that, particularly when we are feeling downtrodden or overwhelmed about some aspect of our lives, calls out to the Dough Boy in his cute little cap. It is a comfort that makes us all feel better. Were it to be doled out in lieu of prescriptions of Prozac, there would probably be a good lot of us who weighed eight-hundred pounds and could not get off of the couch, watching "Pride and Prejudice" on repeat with a wooden spoon in our hands.
I am not sure whether a male equivalent to this exists, and if it does, what it might be. Perhaps it has something to do with men immersing themselves in watching sports. If so, many men might find the women in their lives more sympathetic about their spending time in front of the tube if they took the time to say, "Honey, this is my male equivalent of eating cookie dough."
The boyfriend of a few months ago is now my fiance. Interestingly enough, although I did get him a wooden spoon for Christmas, I have yet to make cookies in front of him. Maybe I will save that for the honeymoon.