Why guys are so cool...

1. Phone Conversations are over in 30 seconds flat.
2. You know stuff about tanks.
3. A five-day vacation requires only one suitcase.
4. You can open all your own jars.
5. Dry cleaners and hair cutters don't rob you blind.
6. You can go to the bathroom without a support group.
7. You don't have to learn to spell a new last name.
8. You can leave the motel bed unmade.
9. You can kill your own food.
10. You get extra credit for the slightest act of thoughtfulness.
11. Wedding plans take care of themselves.
12. If someone forgets to invite you to something, he or she can still be your friend.
13. Your underwear is $10 for a three-pack.
14. If you are 34 and single, nobody notices.
15. Everything on your face stays its original color.
16. You can quietly enjoy a car ride from the passenger's seat.
17. Three pairs of shoes are more than enough.
18. You don't have to clean your apartment if the meter reader is coming.
19. Car mechanics tell you the truth.
20. You can quietly watch a game with your buddy for hours without ever thinking: "He must be mad at me."
21. Same work...more pay.
22. Gray hair and wrinkles only add character.
23. Wedding dress - $2,000. Tuxedo rental - 75 bucks.
24. You don't mooch off other's desserts.
25. You can drop by to see a friend without having to bring a little gift.
26. If another guy shows up at the party in the same outfit, you just might become lifelong friends.
27. Your pals can be trusted never to trap you with. "So, notice anything different?"
28. You are not expected to know the names of more than five colors.
29. You don't have to stop and think of which way to turn a nut on a bolt.
30. You almost never have strap problems in public.
31. You are unable to see wrinkles in your clothes.
32. The same hairstyle lasts for years, maybe decades.
33. You don't have to shave below your neck.
34. At least a few belches are expected and tolerated.
35. Your belly usually hides your big hips.
36. One wallet and one pair of shoes, one color, all seasons.
37. You can "do" your nails with a pocketknife.
38. You have freedom of choice concerning growing a mustache.
39. Christmas shopping can be accomplished for 25 relatives, on December 24th, in 45 minutes.

To Whom It May Concern

I Want To Be Six Again

I am hereby officially tendering my resignation as an adult, in order to accept the responsibilities of a 6 year old. The tax base is lower. I want to be six again.

I want to go to McDonald's and think it's the best place in the world to eat.

I want to sail sticks across a fresh mud puddle and make waves with rocks.

I want to think M&Ms are better than money, because you can eat them.

I want to play kickball during recess and stay up on Christmas Eve waiting to hear Santa and Rudolph on the roof.

I long for the days when life was simple. When all you knew were your colors, the addition tables and simple nursery rhymes, but it didn't bother you, because you didn't know what you didn't know and you didn't care.

I want to go to school and have snack time, recess, gym and field trips.

I want to be happy, because I don't know what should make me upset.

I want to think the world is fair and everyone in it is honest and good. I want to believe that anything is possible.

Sometime, while I was maturing, I learned too much. I learned of nuclear weapons, prejudice, starving and abused kids, lies, unhappy marriages, illness, pain and mortality.

I want to be six again.

I want to think that everyone, including myself, will live forever, because I don't know the concept of death.

I want to be oblivious to the complexity of life and be overly excited by the little things again.

I want television to be something I watch for fun, not something used for escape from the things I should be doing.

I want to live knowing the little things that I find exciting will always make me as happy as when I first learned them.

I want to be six again.

I remember not seeing the world as a whole, but rather being aware of only the things that directly concerned me.

I want to be naive enough to think that if I'm happy, so is everyone else.

I want to walk down the beach and think only of the sand beneath my feet and the possibility of finding that blue piece of sea glass I'm looking for.

I want to spend my afternoons climbing trees and riding my bike, letting the grownups worry about time, the dentist and how to find the money to fix the old car.

I want to wonder what I'll do when I grow up and what I'll be, who I'll be and not worry about what I'll do if this doesn't work out.

I want that time back.

I want to use it now as an escape, so that when my computer crashes, or I have a mountain of paperwork, or two depressed friends, or a fight with my spouse, or bittersweet memories of times gone by, or second thoughts about so many things, I can travel back and build a snowman, without thinking about anything except whether the snow sticks together and what I can possibly use for the snowman's mouth.

I want to be six again.