Yesterday I was power washing my sidewalk. I enjoy power washing. It gives me great satisfaction to see something go from grimy to good as new. I also like that when I did my driveway, it burned over 1,000 calories according to my watch.

I would probably also enjoy mowing the lawn, but PJ won’t allow it. It’s his most satisfying/calorie burning chore.

I’m sure a lot of people drive by and think “Hmmmph, where’s her husband? Watching the Mets game?”

As a matter of fact, he was. Mind ya business.

Other things I am capable of doing that don’t fall under the archaic “gender roles” are:

– ripping a heavy air conditioner from the window in 2 seconds when my parents were away and a torrential storm was brewing.

– changing a tire and snapping off the lug nut when the thread was stripped. (In this case, I might still need assistance from a fellow WOMAN, because that time, Danielle and I did a one, two, three PUSH! together- with the tire iron before it came free of the metal is was welded to. Then we popped on the donut and drove off.)

– moving a couch or other items of furniture all around the house, including up or down the stairs.

– hanging shelves, art work, mirrors. There may be 50,000 holes underneath every picture because if it’s a hair off-kilter, it will haunt me until it’s straight, but I can still do it. This brings me to my next point…

– I can spackle like a pro.

– remove and replace all the interior plumbing in my toilet tank.

– remove the toilet from the floor to see why it’s rocking, then discover that the MAN who built my house made the pipe too tall and it couldn’t be fixed without cutting it down. I had to remedy it with shims, which I hated because I like to fix problems, not put a bandaid on them.

– paint a room by myself. PJ and I barely fight. Then we tried painting together and the neighbors were afraid that one of us was going to die that night. We decided a very long time ago that this is one of the things we should not do together. It saved our marriage, possibly our lives.

– install bushes and trees in our yard. This is me: Hmmm… I think bushes would look nice there. I tell PJ. He doesn’t immediately jump up and go to Lowe’s like I want him to. so I think, “Fuck this. I want bushes in my yard right now.” So I go, get the bushes, dig 4 holes, put them in the ground. Done. I know what I want and I don’t like to wait.

– hang curtains in a two-story great room. “How much is it for a handy man to do it??” It was 10+ years ago so I forget how much, but it was entirely too much when I knew I could do it myself. PJ refused to do it and was willing to pay the handyman, but again I thought, “Fuck that”, put the drill in my waistband, the hardware in my pockets, and told PJ to hold the ladder. Guess who had curtains up that day, ME.

These are only some examples of the things I’m capable of doing. Why am I telling you this? To show off, obviously. But also because while I was power washing yesterday, a lovely delivery guy stopped in front of my house. I thought he was going to hand me a package, but instead, he took the power washer from my hands and began testing it and removing the nozzles, and telling me that the way I was doing it was going to result in only lines.

Because he was so nice, I didn’t unleash the beast and tell him, “I spent about 6 hours last time doing my driveway and look how pristine it is. I’m pretty sure I did it correctly.

PLUS, I read the instruction manual so I know EXACTLY which nozzle to use. I just let him feel like the hero and gave him the benefit of the doubt – hey, maybe he knew a trick that I don’t. Well after he drove away and a little while later, I changed it back to the nozzle I had been using because, surprise, surprise, I’m not a fucking moron and I was right the first time.

So just like little ol’ girly me doesn’t need big ol’ manly you helping me do all the things I’ve listed above (and sooo much more), I also don’t need your help when deciding what I should do with MY body. Why? Because there’s about a 100% chance I know more than you in that arena too.

Ladies. When you vote in November, make sure it’s for the candidate that not only loves and respects women, but also knows that it’s not his (scratch that – HER!!!) MOTHER FUCKING PLACE to tell you what to do with YOUR BODY!