ShE SaY ThE DaRnEsT ThInGs.I HuMoUr HeR AnD SmIlE A LiTtLe, LaUgH A TrIfLe, BuT WhEn ShE FiNaLlY GeTs On My NeRvEs,I WiSh I CoUlD SuPeR-GlUe HeR MoUtH

“I like you…but I think there’s still something lacking in you…”

“Can you think with your brain and not your ego?”

One of the most detestable sentences to come out of a girl’s mouth must be “I think we should break up”. Never mind that she has already displayed obvious signs eons back that I wanted to call it quits. No, to sustain her ego, she has to make it seem like she is one calling the shots; the one to walk out of the relationship. She has to be the one with the upper hand, the one who dismisses me off with a quick swipe of her hand.

She will hint and then she will sting. She can even be both sharp and blunt, cutting me to the quick. She would call me darling, and then ask, “Did I put on weight?” As I hug her around the waist, I feel the beginning of a spare tyre. But my answer must be an emphatic ‘NO’! She will even scream her lungs out when I offer her another piece of cheesecake. And her jaw instantly drops if I suggest that she joins me in the gym tomorrow. She need not be Xena, the warrior princess to crack my skull.

Indisputably, there are numerous other things that the babes say would drive guys crazy. I am probably not new to these vexing statements you have heard, have been hearing or will be hearing from a gal’s mouth near you.

The girls’ pet topics must be those centered around your physical appearance. She denies being attracted to just mine “good looks”, and claims that “Love at first sight” is not her cup of tea. She asserts that she is not shallow, but loves me for your inner strength. Yet, she never fails to insist that maybe I should wear something…less scruffy. Otherwise, she can’t face her shopping sisters with pride. She doesn’t need a scavenger for a boyfriend.

Perhaps, she might pretend she doesn’t mind me having a crew cut in preparation for national service…Ha-Ha! But when I really do get the crop, she gives me that flabbergasted expression and then asks, “It will grow back like F4s’, right?” she believes that boys should have long silky hair now, and will whine and drag you along to shop for more conditioners for your split ends. The worst bit is she likes having all these fashion critique sessions in front of her pajamas party-mates to discuss how she has spruced up her man’s wardrobe. For crying out loud, I feel like telling her to go easy on the leash around my neck, and let I wear whatever I want.

She has a penchant for the weirdest accessories and hankers after the worst kind of junk available. If I tell her that I hate those yucky little Japanese and Korean characters that she hangs all over her personal belongings, she stares at me in disbelief and screams, “Are you Siao?” She grabs a dozen more in split seconds and pesters me to hurry up or she might miss the other goodies.

She will think that I have never made her the right gift. Perhaps she doesn’t understand that mine labour of love, the personal wristband, is more of “The thought that counts” variety. I want to strangle her with it and make her realize that I only sign up for those art classes at the community centre for her sake. My, she doesn’t even have the decency to at least pretend to like it. I wouldn’t mind if she just keeps quiet for once, but she has to guide me through why the wristband ended up with her other rejected last season’s fashion accessories.

She thinks nothing of passing caustic remarks when I wear an old T-shirt that she thinks is way too cheesy to HER liking. She will never understand that I have no desire to be a walking mannequin to make the latest fashion statements. And she will never know that when checking out mine self-ripped and painted jeans, she is not supposed to say, “Don’t you think it’s a bit too tacky?” when she finally laughs out loud and decides it looks weird, I curb the urge to show her that I have painted her name on my butt…Laughs Maliciously. She will always have one comment too many about what I wear, and when I zip my lips, she will add it’s because she wants me to better myself. Right, maybe she needs a better boyfriend.

Often, a girl complains that a guy tries too hard to be a Romeo. The problem is, I probably can’t handle the pressure of being the knight in shinning armour and is scared to bits that there might be other knights-in-waiting who could do a better job. So, I act tough and strong, and show the whole world that I can take care of her. That’s when she resorts to conferring me with horrible names like “Control Freak!” and “Bossy Bully”.

“You should know what!” she shrieks because I am supposed to be much smarter than her. She wants me to be the analytical one to know who the killer is in the thriller, even when it’s plain senseless. And she expects my knees Not to turn to jelly when I am on the amusement park’s ferry wheel although she knew that I have an inborn fear of heights

I am suppose to act dumb while she washes, shampoos, conditions, brushes and sets her hair so she can utter lines like, “You wouldn’t understand. It’s a girl’s thing.” Never mind that she ends up being late for the movie that we were supposed to catch. She will then check for the split ends she has missed, and give me that “All because of you”. Look. She thinks it’s my fault, and I feel like tearing my hair out in despair.

She feels it is her prerogative to declare, “Carry it!” as she throws me her shopping bags. I will never understand why she still thinks that I am her personal servant. I fight the urge to tell her that my arms are hurting from carrying the dumb bells she just bought for her training. To avoid hurting her vulnerable feelings, the benevolent me allow her to continue on her flight of fantasy as she checks out the next shop.

Yet, while I let her skip in freedom from counter to counter, she has to cheek to ask, “Why are you dragging your feet?” Then she hits the homemakers department and treats me like a three-year-old, explaining the wonders of the spatulas and strainers. And wonders out loud why I have never learned all these basics of home economics.

Girls say the most horrible things, but they are capable of sweet nothings too…Oh Boy! What should I do? The trick is to know when to cut in and beg her to cut me some slack!

Haiz…Haiz…Haiz !