Maybe the title should be “Missing Gene” but “Missing Link” just sounded so much better. Anyhow, I have decided that one of my X chromosomes must be missing some critical piece. This thought occurred to me while I was cleaning the bathroom. Cleaning the bathroom isn’t all that exciting so my mind tends to wander. Okay, my mind always tends to wander but that’s beside the point!
Oh, wait. Before we get into genetics, let me tell you why I was cleaning the bathroom. Yeah, it is something that a person does oh, say every three months or so but this time I had a reason. I’m thinking - What if Bruce can’t find a place to park his puppymobile in the city? He may need to drive out here by me to park it. Then, of course, I would grant him access to the bathroom and shower so, uh, I better make sure it’s sparkling clean because most guys notice things like that. (Note the sarcasm that you can’t really hear.) So there I am, in the bathroom, cleaning just in case Bruce steps foot into my house and I’m thinking about stuff.
And here we are back to the original point. I was remembering that somehow, it fell to me to be the appointed one to clean the bathrooms when we were kids and Mom was expecting company. Janet, oops, I mean Shanè wasn’t allowed to do any work. (That was why I didn’t like her when we were kids.) I got the dirty job of cleaning the bathrooms. I recall Mom coming in to inspect the job and criticizing me for not getting the outside of the bowl. She felt any idiot should just instinctively see that part is dirty and know to clean it. Apparently I was missing the gene that noticed dirt. I never had a clue until she pointed it out to me.
I have concluded that the cleaning gene is part of a whole set of genes that I’m missing. Among them are the ones that make women like shopping, like wearing make-up, and like carrying around a hand bag or pocket book or bag or whatever the heck you want to call the damn thing. On the other hand, it’s entirely possible that I’m just lazy. Too lazy to be bothered lugging around a hand bag, too lazy to walk around the store when I can just click and buy whatever I want & too lazy to stand in front of a mirror for hours applying make-up. But there it is - so you decide. Is it pure laziness or a genetic defect? I know which one I’m voting for.
Now my mind is wandering again. Maybe I better replace that burnt out light bulb out front just in case Bruce comes here….
