I saw yet another feminist on television waxing on about how there is no difference between men and women. To her, I ask “What about the poop difference?”

I have been a grandfather for eight months now. I haven’t had the first conversation with anyone regarding the baby’s poop. On the other hand, my wife and daughter discuss the baby’s poop at length. They discuss frequency of pooping, color and consistency of the output, various concerns and causes regarding the poop as well as what went in the other end that my have possibly contributed to the type of poop that was pooped. I remember my wife and mother doing the same thing with all three of my children.

The closest my son-in-law and I come to a poop discussion is when we approach our wife and say something on the order of: “I need another shirt. The baby s*** all over me.” Otherwise, we take for granted that babies poop and pretty much leave it at that.

By the way, you can substitute s*** for peed. Babies do that, too, especially little boys. There is not a lot of difference in how mom versus dad feels about the peeing end of things regarding the baby. My wife and I started out with two girls. By the time the boy came along, we were diaper-changing veterans. We thought we pretty much had things down. Not ten seconds into his first change we were fired upon, so to speak, from a grinning little [insert favorite expletive here]. How that much pee comes out of a body roughly the width and height of a football defies the limits of known science. Pee by the gallon goes everywhere, but worst of all is it drenches the parent. I know. I was the recipient of my son’s first volley as it were. I’ve walked through sprinklers and did not come out that wet.

When his work was done, the boy immediately fell asleep. He tried to look sweet and innocent, but he was fooling no one. There was an impish little grin on his face.

Another big, big difference between men and women is the baby footwear difference.

Females buy shoes for babies. This confuses men. Why buy shoes for a person who does not walk? Why buy shoes for a person who will outgrow them in two weeks (if you are lucky)? Why buy shoes for a person who is fascinated by his toes and routinely tries (and fails) to capture them? Why would anyone buy baby shoes at the same price they pay for adult-sized high-end luxury shoes?

Of course, the answer to all these questions is easy. Forgive the misogyny here: Because they are females! That’s why!

Experienced fathers quietly accept their fate as mom shells out enough cash to buy a really nice high end fishing rod and possibly a boat to go with it.

It is a credit to the sales clerk that she does not snicker out loud as she counts out the money.

“Aren’t these cute?” Mom asks Dad, once the transaction is complete.

“Yes,” he tells her between clenched teeth . A one-word answer is all he can manage.

“Won’t the baby look cute in them?”

The little so and so better, Dad thinks. He struggles to keep his face in a neutral position. “Yes,” he agrees.

“Do you have to go to the bathroom or something?” she asks, looking concerned. “You don’t look right.”

“I’m fine,” he lies. It will be one of many throughout the parenting journey primarily regarding purchases made for the baby.

First-time fathers foolishly challenge Mom. That is because they don’t understand the facts of life at least as they apply to buying useless items for a baby.

Fact #1: You are going to lose the argument no matter what.
Fact #2: See Fact #1

Yet another difference is the mom versus dad approach to feeding the baby. Dad in his male-based naivety has this foolish notion that the baby will eat when the baby is hungry. If he offers the baby food and the baby does not eat, that is because the baby does not want it. He picks up the remote and it is back to the game we go.

Mom figures, if the baby doesn’t eat let’s say, carrots, the baby wants sweet potatoes. Unless the baby doesn’t want sweet potatoes in which case he may want prunes. When he doesn’t eat any of the offerings, Mom gets worried. She calls her sister. A long, detailed poop conversation takes place. They come to the conclusion there something is wrong with the baby.

“I tried everything,” she tells Dad, “but James won’t eat.”

She has positioned herself in front of the television. Behind her, the crowd roars and there is mention of hitting a triple.

“Maybe he’s not hungry,” the naive dad foolishly suggests in hopes she will move out of the way of the television. It does not work. Instead of moving, she initiates an overview of the poop conversation she just held with her sister. It is determined the baby must be taken to the doctor. By “determined” I mean she has determined the baby requires a doctor visit. His vote to not call the doctor is immediately overridden.

The experienced dad knows better than to challenge Mom on these matters if he is ever going to be able to watch the game in peace. “Maybe, we should call the doctor,” he lies, staring her straight in the eyes. He dare not turn to look at the television screen even though Atlanta is down by two, it is the bottom of the ninth, bases loaded and now everyone is roaring about something.

Later that day, they shell out enough money to buy a high-end pair baby shoes (gold-plated) to be told by the doctor that the baby is fine. He just might not be hungry.

So, don’t tell me there is no difference between men and women, and I think I speak for the vast majority of men when I say: Thank goodness there is. There is some kind of magic to being a mom that dad just doesn’t possess. Dad knows it. The baby knows it. The only ones who apparently doesn’t know it is the feminists who claim we are all the same.

To them I say, if you ever change a little boy, do it just like you would change a little girl. By that, I mean, whatever you do, don’t place the new diaper over his firing mechanism while you are handling the old diaper. When he pees all over you, all I can say is “vive la difference.”