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Why I can’t cut the mustard

By: Doug Speirs

Posted: 06/13/2012 1:00 AM | Comments: 0

THIS is not easy to admit, but I am not exceptionally talented in the critical area of finding things.

This is because I am a guy, and guys, while we are blessed with all sorts of skills essential for the survival of human civilization — such as the ability to instantly tell whether a receiver has both feet in bounds — do not possess the genetic material required to find stuff when it goes missing.

Mustard would be an excellent example. I am always looking for the mustard. The problem is my wife always puts the mustard in places where I can’t find it, such as the refrigerator.

I will make myself a hotdog, then open our fridge and, after rooting around for several valuable seconds, be forced to shout at my wife: "HONEY, WHERE’S THE MUSTARD???"

My wife, in the sort of tone you would use if you were speaking to a potted plant, will holler back: "IT’S ON THE TOP SHELF!!!"

So, I will look on the top shelf, but, as you have already guessed, I will find every condiment known to mankind, except for mustard. I will politely explain this to my wife, who will storm into the kitchen, give me one of those looks that every guy with a spouse has received, thrust her hand in the fridge and — VOILA! — pull out the mustard. My wife is able to find it because she is a woman, a gender that nature has blessed with an innate ability for finding important things, such as a sale on "some super cute shoes."

I am mentioning this today because recently, after spending three hours in a dunk tank on a wicked hot afternoon for a local charity, I accidentally misplaced my car. There I was, sporting a sunburn and damp clothing, wandering down a street, looking for my vehicle. Being a guy who does not waste energy, I didn’t start "looking" until I reached the exact spot where I thought I knew I had definitely parked my car.

But it wasn’t there. So I kept walking, growing more alarmed with each step. After a couple of blocks, I reached the only logical conclusion: While I was busy doing wonderful work for charity, someone without a heart had towed my car.

Again, being a veteran guy, I knew what to do in a crisis situation such as this — I called my wife. "Honey, someone towed my car while I was sitting in the dunk tank," is what I told her, trying to keep my voice calm because I did not want her to fly off the handle due to the injustice of the situation.

There was a brief silence. "Did you look for it?" she asked.

As you can imagine, I was indignant. "DID I LOOK FOR IT?" I grunted in shocked reply. "Of. Course. I. Looked.

For. It. I know where I parked my (bad word) car and it’s not there now. It was on the street for more than two hours, so obviously it got towed."

There was another brief pause.

"Well," my wife finally sighed, "I guess you’ll have to call the city and find out where they took it."

To say the least, I was shocked. "Me call?" I snorted. "I’m standing on a (very bad word) street in the hot sun in damp clothes and you’re sitting in an air-conditioned office with a computer and a phone book, so you should call, then let me know where they took it."

Bowing to the undeniable logic, my wife agreed, so I hung up and, with nothing better to do, began sadly trudging back the way I’d come, which was when I found my car. It was parked right beside the charity event in a spot where — and this is the important part — I did not remember leaving it, which means it was likely moved there by juvenile delinquents or space aliens.

I stared at my car in disbelief, then called my wife to let her know that, thanks to my never-say-die attitude, I had bravely tracked down the missing vehicle.

You will find this hard to believe, but my wife, who is a woman, thought the whole thing was amusing. "Ha ha ha," is what she said.

I was shocked by her cavalier attitude, but I don’t have time to complani. I need to get to the store right away because, as far as I can tell, we are totally out of mustard.

doug.speirs@freepress.mb.ca

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