The Ladies, God Bless Them

As the battle of the sexes continues apace, I was fortunate to locate an article in the London Times which shed a light on the struggle. Although more experienced than average, I confess to having moments of puzzlement in how to deal with the ladies. Tad Safran, the author of the piece shares his thoughts and observations and many of you (male) may be enlightened by his studies.

“Everything I know about women . . .

. . . Our correspondent learnt from his two-year-old niece – from not making her cry to the art of gift giving

Tad Safran

As a single man in my mid-thirties, I’ve spent 20 years trying to understand women, with mixed results. It wasn’t until six months ago, however, that I was given a clear insight into how the female mind works.

It came in the form of Lou-Lou, my two-year-old niece. I know, as a grown-up, that the onus is on me to teach her useful stuff rather than the other way around, but in this case, the instruction was mutual. I taught her how to wink, blow raspberries, burp and count to 10, sort of. “One, two, three, seven, nine, ten”, which is good enough for me, as, personally, I’ve always thought the numbers four, five, six and eight were overrated.

In return, I learnt more about women in two months than I had gleaned on my own in two decades. This does not mean, by the way, that I think women are like two-year-olds and should be treated as such. I love my niece. I respect my niece. I’d dive on an unexploded grenade for my niece, and not just to amuse her. I would only dive on it if there was real danger of it exploding and hurting her. Women are all individuals and I’m making generalisations, but in the two-year-old Lou-Lou is the undiluted, unaffected essence – the “id” – of womanhood. Here’s what I’ve learnt.

1 Ignore them

If I come into a room and bounce up to Lou-Lou like a clown, trying to amuse and entertain, she blanks me completely. It’s as if I don’t exist. If I walk straight past her, however, I guarantee she will call out my name and want to play with me.

2 Bribe them

Gifts work. Preferably something noisy or sparkly. With Lou-Lou, that means stuffed animals that sing or sequined hair grips. With grown women, I suppose that equates to, say, cars and jewellery.

3 Compliment them

I’ve mistakenly always held that compliments are like diamonds: valuable only for their scarcity. Flood the market and they lose all value. Not so. Lou-Lou poos in her nappy, everyone cheers – as if she just came up with a workable solution to world hunger – and she beams like a lighthouse. The same works with grown women, although, of course, only the general principle applies rather than the specific example given here. (I learnt this one the hard way.)

4 Listen to them

I’ve spent my life trying to preempt what women want. I needn’t have bothered. If I just pay attention, Lou-Lou will tell me exactly what she wants: eat, dance, doll, jump, run, sing, play, read. Then all I have to do is organise it. How much simpler my life would have been if I had listened and acted accordingly.

5 Apologise

It doesn’t matter what you’ve done. It doesn’t matter if you don’t even know what you’ve done. I might have slighted Lou-Lou by putting the wrong doll in the pram. What seems to you or me like a minor infraction is, to her, on a par with genocide. The best policy is to throw yourself on her mercy and beg forgiveness. But you must sound sincere. You don’t have to be sincere, just sound sincere. This is so elementary, yet how many men ignore this advice?

6 Let them do it

Whatever “it” is. No matter how ridiculous it may seem to you, let her do it. When Lou-Lou gets an idea into her mind, there’s no talking her out of it. In fact, be supportive, encourage her even. Then sit back and hope she discovers for herself that it was a stupid idea. The downside is that she might decide it was an excellent idea. One day, I found myself playing dolls’ tea party for two whole hours and drank so many cups of imaginary tea, I was imaginary peeing all afternoon.

7 Don't tell them what to do

The best way to guarantee that she doesn’t do what I want is by telling her to do it. The clever thing is to make it seem like her idea – and make it seem fun. One of my proudest moments was convincing Lou-Lou that watching the rugby World Cup final would be more fun than playing in the sandpit.

8 Don't complain to them

This is a tricky one. What I mean by this is, don’t burden her with your petty problems. When I complain to Lou-Lou about a bad meeting or a sore back, she couldn’t care less, but if there’s genuinely something wrong, she will instinctively sense it and, with one hug, pick me up more than I thought possible.

9 Don't argue

There’s simply no point. You will never win, and if you do win, it will be a hollow victory because of the mood she’ll be in for a long time afterwards. Quite frankly, who needs the aggro? This leads to my final and most important point:

10 Don't make them cry

There is nothing more distressing than watching Lou-Lou’s enormous, innocent brown eyes overflow with tears, while her mouth becomes a gaping, drooling, mournful air-raid siren that pierces through to the core of my heart. I’m utterly defenceless when she cries. And there’s no known antidote. Food? Monkey impressions? A pony? Stabbing myself in the eye with a chopstick? I will agree to anything to stop her crying – and doesn’t she.”

Although Mr. Safran is presently single, he is obviously preparing himself for the ultimate “mortal combat" which we call marriage. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if you read the piece and recognized some universal truths. The most significant is his desire to sublimate his own interests to recognize and love his niece. Well done, Tad.

In His abiding love,

Cecil Moon