Men and women are from different parts of the cave

My wife and I were married eight years before she let slip a secret.

That day, we had returned to our home in Grand Prairie following a three-hour trip to Forum 303 Mall in Arlington. When we had our then two kids inside and playing on the yellow shag carpet in our living room, Priscilla said, “That was a very good shopping trip. Thank you for going with me.” My man mind did not know how three hours spent going from store to store could be called “a good shopping trip,” so I said, “You’re welcome, but we didn’t buy anything.”

Then Priscilla let me in on the secret: “Shopping isn’t buying. Shopping is looking.”

We had been married long enough I knew women and men had different strategies in buying. Unless she has a list, a woman will spend at least three times as long as does a man in a store. A man knows what he wants when he goes into a store. He goes straight to the item or items, places them in his buggy, pays and goes home. Mission accomplished. A woman wanders around the store, seemingly without reason, places varied items in her cart, wanders more and eventually makes her way to the checkout line, probably adding to her cart on the way, and then picking up a Coke while standing in line.

After Priscilla informed me of the true purpose of shopping, I thought about why men and women are different in their approach while visiting the modern-day bazaar. It is because of living in caves for a few million years.

In cave living, women developed what later was called “multi-tasking.” Women took care of the cave. There were lots of things to do, all at one time. The fire in the fire pit needed attention. Cave babies needed careful watching lest they fall into the fire in the fire pit. Food would not prepare itself, so cave women took care of broiling chunks of meat and cutting up the meat and serving the meat. Rocks needed proper heating before dropping into hot water containers. There were clothes to make and repair.

Men were single taskers. Whatever was in front of a cave man, he and his unshaven buds took care of. Wild animal approaching the cave entrance, drive it away, or kill it and take it to the skinning place. Stories of ancestors needed telling to children so memories would be remembered.

A man’s main job, though, was to hunt food. Along with his cave family men, the Main Hunter went from the cave, into the forest or onto the plain, found food animals, and killed one. Man hunting parties did not mess around. Big elk, speared, quartered and taken back to the cave meant meals for several months.

Know your mission, conduct proper planning, assign everyone a job, kill the food animal, go home.

Shopping would have meant hunger and possible starvation had women made up food-killing parties. Dressed the same as men, carrying the same weapons, a hunting party of women would have crossed a hill or two, but when spotting a large elk or aurouch, would have had a conference.

“Yes, that is a good size aurouch,” one would have said, “but we might find a better one across the next hill.” And so it would have gone, until the women realized it was time to fish or cut bait, to mix metaphors.

Besides, if women had made up hunting parties, who would have found fresh flowers for the cave?