There are a lot of things guys can do. Change a flat tire, chop wood, watch football, cuss. The list is endless.

But there are things we can’t do, and most of us will readily admit to those, unless you say, “Can’t you keep your hands off the leftover bacon in the fridge?” It’s not that we can’t, we just won’t.

What no man can do is have a head cold. Period. A head cold is a man’s kryptonite. We can’t think straight, we whine, and worse yet, we can’t taste our beer. We might as well be drinking PBR. When a guy has a cold it’s like the Testosterone Gnomes came in the middle of the night and turned us into hipsters.

Please don’t attempt to compare a man’s head cold to childbirth. No, I’ve never given birth, but you’ve never been a guy with a head cold. Touché, Madame.

We also can’t stay at home with the children longer than it takes someone to go to the convenience store. By the 20-minute mark the kids have gone all Lord of the Flies. Moms, if you want to ensure the safety of your husband, please don’t leave him alone with the children.

The following is a text exchange with my wife while she visited her parents over the weekend. She was gone 28 hours. I’m surprised the police didn’t scream to a stop in front of our house with sirens on and lights flashing.

3:25 p.m.

Jason: When are you coming home?

Kim: I just left. I’m at the stop sign at the end of our street. I can still see you.

Jason: The Toddler set fire to the drapes.

Kim: Leave me alone. I have to drive now.

6:15 p.m.

Jason: Grilled steaks and roasted potatoes tonight.

Kim: Sounds great. Sorry I missed it.

Jason: The Toddler ate ketchup – with a fork. She made sure she didn’t get any on her steak and potatoes.

8:15 a.m.

Jason: There’s poop in the hallway.

Kim: It’s the cat.

Jason: No. Too big. I think we have a Sasquatch.

Kim: Clean it up. We’ll have DNA samples analyzed Monday. I’m sure you have The National Enquirer’s number handy.

8:18 a.m.

Jason: Not Sasquatch. It was the Toddler. She took off her diaper and made a trail to the bathroom. She finished on her potty.

Kim: She pooped on the potty for the first time and I MISSED IT?

Jason: It’s all glitz, glamor and historic milestones when you’re not home.

9:35 a.m.

Jason: The kids had boiled eggs and sawdust for breakfast.

Kim: Where’d you get the sawdust?

Jason: Radial arm saw. Had to fix a hole in the ceiling the kids made.

Kim: Sounds good. Plenty of fiber.

4:20 p.m.

Jason’s phone: When are you coming home?

Kim: Leaving now. Had a great time. You?

Jason’s phone: We did. So did Dad.

Kim: Where’s Dad?

Jason’s phone: We’re playing Bloated Federal Bureaucracies and he’s in Laundry Room Prison. We arrested him for tax evasion. He’s really good at it. He’s crying. I think he has a head cold.

Kim: Tell him I’ll be home soon. Have fun.

Every word of this column was painfully accurate except the part about leftover bacon. HA! When does that ever happen?

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