Dennis Box | Gifts for women: it’s arithmetic | Our Corner

This column will reach most houses around Christmas and this is meant to sooth the soul of men: you have been, or are soon to be, damned by wives and girlfriends.

This column will reach most houses around Christmas and this is meant to sooth the soul of men: you have been, or are soon to be, damned by wives and girlfriends.

Help is on the way.

Let’s begin with the premise I know to be true. Every male believes he knows best in all matters. Almost every male I have ever met believes that, except for me… I don’t believe it, I know I am right. Ask my daughter who thinks I am an idiot.

Back to the premise.

Males by their genetic nature believe they will buy the correct Christmas gift. Women, of course, have a slightly altered perception, which for any male who wants to survive is known as “the right and true one.”

I believe I have found the solution to the donut that has fallen in the ointment (Beckley points out it’s usually a fly, but this is bigger) messing everything up for men. It is space. The distance from point A to point B, but to be all mathy and science-like, let’s call it space. Makes me sound smarter.

That is it… a basic Christmas present relativity math problem. I am surprised Einstein with all his funny hair didn’t come up with this.

The problem is very simple: Women always tell men, in one way or another, what they want for Christmas. It is usually in some kind of girl code that was taught to them in secret classrooms boys were never allowed to attend, but that might just be my own tin-foil antenna conspiracy theory. We will leave that one for another day.

The important part of the this equation is women always tell men what they want, and stay with me on this one… men do hear it and comprehend at some level. Especially the newly married ones.

This is where space comes into the theory of Christmas present relativity. The space between the woman telling the man what they want (in secret Christmas girl code) and the poor hapless male species making it to the store creates the equation of Cmc2=0.

The vast expanse of space between the man getting the secret code and looking for something in the store creates billions and billions of potential errors. First the man has to break the code, then remember the answer for the broken code and cross the vast expanse of air space.

Is it any wonder we always fail? Cmc2=0 proves one very important Christmas maxim… it is not our fault.

When a man buys a drill set instead of a sweater it is nothing more than Cmc2=0 at work… and it is not his fault.

Cmc2=0 had taken over.

It is just a simple math problem.

Merry Christmas.

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