Chicks want guys with skills, practical skills...

My husband and I are both getting PhDs in engineering. He's an electrical engineer and I'm a mechanical engineer. When people find out that we're getting our doctorates, the usually make a comment along the lines, "Wow, you must be so smart. I could never do that." For the record, I would like to point out that being good at one thing doesn't make a person "super-smart" or good at everything. For example, I think I would have to gouge my eyes out with a spoon before I could sit through (and care about) MBA classes. It's not that I'm not smart enough to figure it out, it's just that I'm better suited to what I do.

Anyway...back to my point. So, after the gee-whiz comments, people move on to the most common stereotype about engineers. "Oh, you guys are engineers," they say. "You must enjoy working on your house." Gah! For the love of Pete, just because I'm a mechanical engineer doesn't mean I'm good at plumbing, or fixing cars, or repairing appliances. My electrical engineer husband can't rewire a house or fix a lamp. I think he got a C in middle school shop class.

Now, to illustrate the fact that smart, educated people can be completely inept when it comes to everyday things, let me introduce today's "Why can't people just do things my way?"

WCPJDTMW #2 -- Reading Directions
My husband is handsome, intelligent, and funny, but he's terrible at reading directions. Last night, I wasn't feeling well, so he offered to make frozen pudding in our little Cuisinart ice cream maker. "Oh, that sounds good," I agreed, and off he went.

Making frozen pudding requires an understanding of two separate processes--the pudding making process and the freezing process. First, you get out the instant pudding packet, dump it in a bowl and gradually whisk in the milk to eliminate lumps. These directions are on the pudding box. Then you get out the ice cream freezer bowl, attach the stirrer paddle, turn on the machine, and dump in the premixed pudding. Fifteen minutes later, you've got a fudgsicle in a bowl.

Sounds simple, right? Not for my darling electrical engineer. I walked into the kitchen to find him staring at the freezer bowl, into which he had dumped the pudding powder and the milk without any mixing. The stirrer paddle was not attached. The machine was not on. "Aaack!" I screeched as I rushed in to assemble the machine, turn it on, scrape up the frozen lumps, and attempt to mix the powder into the milk with the machine running. For the purposes of brevity, let me paraphrase the ensuing argument.

Him: "You don't need to be here."
Me: "What? The pudding was going to be ruined!"
Him: "You didn't need to freak out, I had it under control."
Me: "No you didn't! You didn't follow the directions and I had to come along and save you."
Him: "Your way isn't the always the best way."
Me: "Try telling that to the pudding."

As it turns out, the pudding was fine (thanks to my intervention, of course). I must admit there's something about frozen pudding that makes it very hard to fight with your spouse. After all, he does have lots of other good qualities, even if making frozen pudding doesn't come naturally.

That's all for now. Peace out.