Leading Off—The Sick Men Edition

I just opened my inbox and clicked through the usual morning mail—announcements of the ultra acai berry cleanse, great deals on Cialis and Viagra, and the daily dear-Sir-or Madame-I-am-the-cousin-to-the-daughter-of-the-former-president-of-a-country-you’ve-never-heard-of-but-I’ve-got-a-million-dollars-waiting-for-you-in-a-Nigerian-bank notice.

Buried deep in the thicket was a note from Eric Celeste. “Help. Men are sick. Can you pull together a Ladies Day on FrontBurner?

So, a guy gets a sniffle and what do they do? They call a woman. Or in this case women. Why? Because we know how to work through pain.

Men are babies. Not the cute cuddly kind, the miserable and weak variety who cannot do one thing for themselves when they have a headache or the flu.

Oh, poor baby got an eye infection? Sorry boys, you’d never make it through our blessing—six or seven days a month of cramping and bleeding. We brave those special time by scrunching our tender bellies into a body Spanx and strolling around in high heels.

Your throat is scratchy and your little head aches? Dude, try writing 3,500 words the day after a night spent tossing, turning, and sweating. Women don’t let a little malady like menopause keep them from work.

So girls, pass the hormones. As champions, we will adjust. Rock it.