It’s not my general habit to quote Oprah type personalities (lest I be accused of eating bon bons), but this gem from Maya Angelou is too good, “I’ve learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.”

If I were famous and people hung on my every word, I’d phrase it like this, “I’ve learned that you can tell a lot about a guy by the way he treats his mother, what he does when he loses, and how he reacts to getting cut off in traffic.” On the flip side, I think you can tell a lot about a lady by how long she takes to get ready, what the inside of her microwave looks like, and if she regifts.

I haven’t always known these things, and I’m sure I’m still missing a few obvious insights. However, I just know things about women who paint their toes odd colors. And people who refer to themselves as “creative”? They aren’t early risers. Men who are able to use “affect” and “effect” properly and interchangeably have orderly sock drawers. I know all about these sorts of things.

Fortunately, I lucked out anyway when I married my husband, because I still had a lot to learn when I was 19. For starters, sadly, Greg’s mom had passed away from cancer two years before we met. I never met her or saw how Greg treated her. Secondly, after knowing Greg for 12 years, I’ve never seen him lose anything. He came home after taking the GRE and said, “I think I missed one.” (He was right.) It’s tough being married to an over-achiever, especially when you wish you were one yourself. And thirdly, I can’t tell how he reacts to getting cut off because my ranting is too loud to hear his commentary.

In case you were wondering, I can be presentable in 5 minutes, my microwave is clean, and I don’t regift. Obviously, the dichotomies are troubling, but I didn’t claim this was a perfect system.