"When you go to work do you have to write about what you did on the weekend?"
Someone once told me that boys are physically exhausting and girls are emotionally exhausting. That's certainly true about the Girl who has, in the past, thrown a wobblers because;
Her horse didn't win the Grand National
The Cat ignored her
It was seven o'clock
The wind was blowing
And most recently because she couldn't find her favourite cuddly toy (called Mega) which was in her bloody hand. In addition to this the hypotheses she makes about the world are, put mildly, ludicrous.
"Snot is magic! When you wipe your nose on a towel it vanishes! "
"I assure you, it doesn't. Hang on, which towel did you use?"
"Your one. "
"Of course you did. Why did I ask?"
On the other hand, girls are more caring. Over the weekend I had a kick-a-bout in the back garden with my brother-in-law. Typically this involved me trying to show that I still had the silky skills of my youth. This was rather unwise because I'm forty one now, and therefore old enough to have forgotten that I never actually had any silky skills. And so, in a moment so beautifully maladroit it was almost graceful, I trod on the ball and attempted to lay down four feet off the ground.
After the laughter had stopped the assembled throng realised that I was - after a whole minute - still only halfway through saying the word "f*ck"
And my niece, bless her offered the following sympathy.
Which is both sweet and disturbing in equal measure.
The Girl's reaction a couple of days later when my foot went black and purple was slightly less compassionate;
"Zombie foot! Aieeee! "
So boys are less random.
"Have you ever gone to work dressed as Joe Calzagie? "
"Is it possible to flambé a platypus?"
And so emotionally stable they never ever burst into tears because an ant didn't want to be their friend.