I really don't think men and women are all that different.... despite the evidence.

So, I figured out another amazing aspect of the male brain. Like other women, no doubt, I’ve spent some time wondering why it is that men cannot multi-task like us gals. I did read something about genetic hardwiring once, but I refuse to believe that men are unable to evolve beyond the point where they can check the washing machine for clothes before adding another load – and then lay the laundry detergent on its side to drip out all over the place. Not to say that my guy isn’t multi-tasking life to death- classes, clients, Laura, and Jack (oh, my). He also tends to make the more-than-occasional amazing meal. Yet, there’s still something getting in the way of him remembering his cell phone in the morning without a reminder. I think I figured it out, at least partially.

Now, where my extra (I use this term loosely) brain space is usually filled with navigating Boston roads in my mind in order to find that elusive quick route to BU via our distant neighborhood, Ed let me in on the content of his extra brain space. Saturday afternoon, he was playing “tackle” with Jack. Jack will grab the ball, yell babble that mimics “15, 17, 45 hut!” and then allow Ed and/or me to knock him (gently) to the ground. When Jack moved onto his cars, Ed grabbed the football and started throwing it to me, taking over the imaginary game. Fun enough. When he had the ball, he’d fake that he was throwing it in the distance, extending his other arm as if to ward off oncoming imaginary defensive linemen. His mouth in full pursed focused mode, his eyes no doubt imagining an entire field of players. It took less than a second for him to immediately transfer to football fantasy world. I need to find a similar escape route.

So, here’s my theory. When us women are driving somewhere or cooking dinner, we are no doubt planning out how to get four hours of work done in the two we have that night before we fall asleep. When Ed is cooking dinner, he’s probably engrossed in cooking dinner (which is why it’s so good). When Ed is traveling between class and clients and home, he’s in fantasy football (or soccer) land, picturing the perfect play. Maybe that’s what I need, some perfect play- even if imagined.

Somehow, I’m not so pissed off about the fantasy online sports leagues. Somehow I’m gaining new respect. Somehow I need to find my own. Not sports, no. How about fantasy napping?