“Am I Fat?” and Other Questions Men Dread

How men can save themselves from giving the wrong answer to a woman’s question, from the hilarious battle-of-the-sexes book, Women Are Crazy, Men Are Stupid, by television writers (and life partners) Howard J. Morris and Jenny Lee.

What follows is a series of crazy questions that have been asked of me over the years and the conversations that ensued, how they did go and how they should have gone — in a better world. But don’t think for a moment that Jenny asked them all. She’s not crazier than the average American woman. But for those keeping score at home, Jenny is responsible for #204, #678, #1, #798, and #4009.

CRAZY QUESTION #204: Should we tell each other if one of us has an affair?

“You mean like a luncheon or something?” I asked hopefully. No good ever comes from this question. I always come down firmly on the side of not telling.

“But you have to tell me,” she says.

“Why?”

“Because I’ll find out anyway.”

“And what’s the advantage of hurrying that process?”

“Because if I find out and you didn’t tell me, then I’ll know it meant something. And if it meant something, there’s no coming back from that.”

“But if I tell you — even if it didn’t mean anything — there’s a chance you’ll murder me in my sleep.”

“You’ll have to take that chance.”

“How about if I tell you right after you find out?”

“Too late.”

“Thought so.”

And as the seasons turn, the questions keep coming, and our heads keep spinning and threatening to fall off our necks. The painful thing is even when you think you’re being smart and answering perfectly, it turns out you’re not.

CRAZY QUESTION #678: If I die, how much time would you mourn me before you moved on?

“The rest of my life, baby. I couldn’t go on. There’s no moving on from you.”

Sounds pretty good, right? Wrong.

“So I’ve ruined you forever?” she says. “Being with me is so miserable you’re giving up on relationships for good?”

“No! No! I’d just be so devastated — ”

“But you do have to go on living,” she acknowledges.

“You’re right. I have to go on living. So I’ll live!”

“Okay, okay, enough with the living. I’m barely in the grave and you’re dating.”

“I’m not dating. I’m just living.”

“Seriously, I want you to move on. But factoring in that I’m the love of your life, how long before you do?”

“Hooker at six months. Relationship within a year.”

“Six months after I’m dead you’re going to a hooker?!”

“I’m grieving! It’s part of the grieving process!”

“This is how you celebrate my memory? With hookers?”

“If it’s any consolation, I really hope I go first. Now would be a good time.”

CRAZY QUESTION #463: Do you think my sister is attractive?

Now, this is extremely complicated territory. I’ve been asked this question when the sister was a babe and when the sister looked like Babe, the talking pig from the movies. And in order to get the exact right answer, one also has to factor in how she feels about her sister. (Which also means you actually have to know how she feels about her sister.)

Hot-Sister-She’s-Jealous-of Answer: “She’s okay… I guess. I mean, she’s so not my type. Seriously, you definitely got the looks in the family.” But if you happen to give that same answer about her homely sister, good luck getting cab fare to the bench in the park where you’ll be living.

Homely-Sister-She-Feels-Sorry-For Answer: “Oh, yeah. She’s very attractive! Really, really cute! Especially once you get to know her!”

Woe to the man who gets those answers mixed up. This kind of complexity in answering questions takes a toll on a man’s mind. Our brains are just not cut out for all these jumps, reverses, and hairpin turns. It’s not that we’re simply idiots, it’s that a man has to be a freaking genius to correctly answer the questions a woman asks him.

CRAZY QUESTION #93: Which of my friends do you find most attractive?

Answering this one requires incredible amounts of intellectual gymnastics. A man must first gauge his actual level of attraction to her friends; then factor in her feelings about her friends’ attractiveness; then, after figuring out the one he’s most attracted to, he must suppress that thought and tell her he’s attracted to the one he’s least attracted to. Only then can he possibly hope for an agreeable response like “You’re so right! Marlene has such a pretty face!” If the man stumbles and says he finds her hottest friend attractive, he’s charged with being not only an idiot, but a “classic” idiot with no vision. “Everyone goes for Amy with the boobs! You’re so typical! Do you have even an ounce of originality?”

When I was a kid there was no hotter woman on the planet than Farrah Fawcett-Majors. If you were twelve or thirteen you were sure to have that famous poster of her kneeling in that red bathing suit, with her very visible nipples, hanging over your bed. Her wild mane of wavy blow-dried hair falling on her shoulders, smiling down on you with her gorgeous extra white teeth as you masturbated. A common refrain of twelve-year-old girls at the time was “Farrah would be nothing without that hair and those teeth.” To which boys too often responded, “Who could possibly be good-looking without their hair and their teeth?” In retrospect, I see that this was just the beginning of the crazy statement/stupid response pattern. But as I get older and more mature I realize two things: One, if we’d just shut up and nodded sympathetically, perhaps we could have given comfort to all those girls who were so disturbed by our worshiping at the altar of this “angel.” The second thing I’ve realized is that even with no teeth and no hair Farrah still would have been hot.

Now granted, there are crazy questions women ask that all men should be used to by now. And they should be able to handle them deftly and graciously. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I’m talking about that question.

CRAZY QUESTION NUMERO UNO: Am I fat?

Why It’s Crazy: You either are or you aren’t. And you know which one it is.

That being said, even the lamest newlywed knows the answer to this perennial question is always no. Always. No exceptions. You never tell a woman she’s fat. You never imply a woman is fat. You never even stand near someone who’s saying some other woman is fat. I’m at Starbucks as I write this and a woman who should know better just asked to try one of their “chocolate old-fashioned” doughnuts. But am I going to say anything? Of course not. And if I was married to her, I would have suggested she have the doughnut — even if she wasn’t interested in having one. To not suggest it is, in a woman’s mind, to indirectly tell her she’s fat. And yes, for all you following at home, that’s crazy!

So this particular question should be a breeze to answer, right? And yet, amazingly, this morning — somewhere in America, far, far away from my house — when a woman asked a random fellow if he’d noticed that she’d put on a few pounds, the guy should have realized that she wanted an honest answer as much as he wants one about whether she’s ever been with someone bigger than him.

The Right Answer: “No, baby, you look exactly like you always do. You look great!”

But he didn’t say that. For some reason, he actually thought that today was the first day in the history of the world that a woman wanted an honest answer to that question.

The Stupid Answer: “Hon, if you don’t feel good about yourself, there are things you can do about it.”

Yup. That’s what he said.

Here’s what he was thinking: Maybe she has put on one or two. She still looks great, but couldn’t we all look better? And heck, if she’s really upset about her weight she should do something about it. And if I confirm what she already knows, she might just make that Pilates class she’s been putting off. And it’s not that I don’t love her like she is, but wouldn’t it be ideal if she felt better about herself? Then she’d be mentally healthier and have a tighter ass! It’s win-win!

No, no, no.
It’s lose-lose.
And he lost-lost.

But what’s even more distressing for all of us is that if we can still screw up the old “Am I fat?” question — a rookie mistake if ever there was one — where does that leave us when confronted with questions women ask that are far more nuanced in their craziness?

CRAZY QUESTION #798: Do you really enjoy watching football more than spending time with me?

The Stupid Answer: What is your fucking problem with football?! What he was thinking: How can she ask me to compare her to a Tom Brady pass on third down? The National Football League is an institution. She’s one woman. Granted, she’s my woman. But it’s also my league. And this is the ultimate apples-and-oranges scenario. It’s like asking me if I like McDonald’s more than her. (And of course that comparison can only lead to “You like McDonald’s more than me? Fine. Why don’t you go sleep with a Big Mac!”)

The Right Answer: “Football is just a game, baby. You’re the love of my life. Do you want me to rip the cord out of the TV right now? ‘Cause I’ll rip this thing out right now, I swear. Then I’ll smash the screen and take you on a picnic!”

Had he said this he would have immediately quelled her craziness and she would have completely backed off. The man would be back watching football in minutes, and worst-case scenario, she takes a rain check on the picnic.

CRAZY QUESTION #389: Do you think I’m right? Or do you think your mother is right?

The Right Answer: “You, baby, you. All you.”

The Stupid Answer: “Okay, let’s just look at this rationally. Mother does make a good point –”
Uh-oh. Was that shattering sound a plate over his head?

What he was thinking: She’s my mommy! She makes me special cookies that look like airplanes!

What he should have been thinking: I live with you. My mother’s in Connecticut.

A Question Nonpareil
Jenny came home with me to my parents’ house in Boston for the first time. She needn’t have worried about what they were going to think of her that day they met — they adored her. But still, coming to the place of a man’s stupid formative years is stressful for any girlfriend. To add to that stress, my parents invited some relatives over to meet her. At one point I was talking to my cousin’s husband when I noticed that Jenny, while chatting with my friend Sherman, was sitting on the love seat alone. And I thought: Hey! Whoa! My baby is on a love seat with no love! So I got up, walked across the room, and sat down next to her. As I was sitting I happened to grab a handful of nonpareils from a candy bowl on the end table and popped them in my mouth. I then rubbed her lower back. She smiled sweetly at me and said, “That’s so nice that you came to sit by me.” I smiled back.

CRAZY QUESTION #4009: Did you come over here for me or for the nonpareils?

The Right Answer: You, baby, you. You’re all the sweetness I need.

And for once in my life I had the right answer! Unfortunately, I also had a mouthful of nonpareils, so it came out more like, “Ooo, aby, ooo. Er all the weetness I eed.” She rolled her eyes. I couldn’t believe it! I came to her aid and not only did I not get credit, I got scorned. (I also kicked myself because if I’d just grabbed the damn nonpareils after I’d rubbed her back I’d have had a much more solid defense. But they were those incredible dark chocolate ones from Trader Joe’s . . . ) Okay, okay, the truth is, I saw the nonpareils and I saw her at the same time. So I decided to multitask! Is that so wrong? Aren’t women always chiding men for our inability to do two things at once? I was coming to support her and getting some candy. Why can’t a man love both? (I understand how you might not be able to love two women at one time. I hear that can get dicey.) But what’s wrong with loving a woman and a small, flat chocolate drop covered with little white pellets of sugar?! It’s not about either/or, it’s about love. And that’s when I realized: It’s about love.

All these crazy questions are about love.

Breaking the Pattern
How can a man stop answering a woman’s crazy questions stupidly? Here’s how: A man must understand that the dirty little secret of all those questions about her weight, her sister’s attractiveness, his activities once she’s dead, his devotion to his mother, and even his love of football and nonpareils can all be boiled down to the one question she’s really asking: Do you love me more than everyone else? That’s right. Her big secret agenda is Do you love me more than everyone else? And what’s so crazy about that? Nothing.

So the next time a woman asks a man if he really enjoys her stories from childhood, and would he like to hear another one, let us just hope — nay, pray — that he suppresses his stupid instincts and keeps the stupid inside for once; smiles at her, knowing what she’s really asking him; and says, “Sure, baby, let me put on the tea.”

ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Howard J. Morris began his career in television, writing for the revolutionary HBO series Dream On, and then on the Emmy-nominated Home Improvement. He created the series, Holding the Baby and In Case of Emergency. He’s also written on My Wife and Kids, According to Jim, and most recently, The Starter Wife. Jenny Lee was a writer on the hit comedy series Samantha Who?, starring Christina Applegate, and a writer on the Nickelodeon show, The Troop. She is also the author of three books of humor essays: Skinny Bitching, What Wendell Wants, and I Do. I Did. Now What?!: Life After the Wedding Dress. They live together in Los Angeles and are the authors of Women are Crazy, Men Are Stupid: The Simple Truth to a Complicated Relationship (Copyright © 2009 by Howard J. Morris and Jenny Lee)

LEARN MORE

• Read Chapter 1 of Women Are Crazy, Men Are Stupid: The Simple Truth to a Complicated Relationship
• Watch the video: Authors Howard Morris and Jenny Lee explain the title of their funny book about male-female relationships