Why Men Drive Women Crazy

Short, sweet, and to the point. That's what's great about this poem. Kudos to Margaret Atwood for proving that it is possible to show your emotions in a simple way. “You Fit Into Me” is much more than a four line, two stanza poem. It is a story much deeper than that. It is one of anger and frustration. It is the classic story of men driving women insane.
For centuries, men have always criticized women about everything from having a child of the incorrect gender to not being as attractive as our best friends. Well boys, I hate to break it to you, but you are in for a rude awakening. I'm going to let you in on a tiny little secret that women have know about since we were formed from a rib-YOU are the cause of our ever-changing emotions. Yes, it's true. The cause is not our hormones or our “time of the month” or our wonderful, beautiful pregnancy. No. The cause is men. Women cannot even brush their teeth without being bombarded by questions or being told how to do such-and-such “properly”. If we want your help, we will ask for it.
Men who see “their woman” as imperfect and desire for her to change have quite a bit of growing up to do. The difference in maturity levels between men and women are astounding. When we tell you “you should grow your facial hair out” or “don't cut your hair that short” we are simply trying to help you out because we hear what other people say about you. On the opposite side of the spectrum, men tell women to change simply because they do not wish to take the time to actually sit down and have a legitimate conversation with that particular woman. If you knew why we react to some things so strongly, you would understand how we think and feel, and you would almost never be “in the dog house.” Wanna know the reason we put you on the couch so much? I will give you a clue: we do not tolerate annoying, ignorant people.
A man who ends a relationship because he is too immature to discuss problems in that relationship are not men, but scared little boys. Men must learn to accept the reality of life. Women are much more mature, we only get angry because you refuse to take the time to understand us, and some days, we just want to talk. Learn this, and you will never lose another woman.

Mrs. Reedy

As I walked down the blue and white hall I felt anxious-even though I had
no idea what that word meant. My father turned to the left and realized “This was my first grade classroom when I went to Bayou View!” Although that made me feel slightly more at ease, I was still nervous. Was it too late to run back to Pascagoula to Nicole and Lane and Bobby and Daniel? What if the other kids here didn’t like me? I was never a shy child, but today I felt like I was in someone else’s life. Like a movie maybe. It was so surreal. I took a deep breath and stepped through the door. Bright, happy, educational colors of red, yellow, and blue covered every inch of the room. As I admired the bookshelves lining the back of the classroom that overflowed with stories, my mother nudged me and said “Tell your teacher your name sweetheart.” I turned and my eyes met an older woman’s gaze. She was by far one of the nicest looking people I had ever laid eyes on. After going through the “we just moved here from ‘Goula” process, her knowing eyes looked to me. “My name is Mrs. Reedy and I will be your new first grade teacher.” Her voice was so pleasant to my ears, the butterflies in my stomach flew to the playground outside the window. As I took my seat, I realized that no one knew that I wasn’t from around here. Most of the kids in my class had gone to different kindergardens, and Mrs. Reedy quickly took advantage of that by playing games with us.


Now as I wander down those shrunken halls, I feel a deep ache in my
heart. I know I was only in fourth grade when she moved away, but there must have
been some way to keep in touch with her. She was the first person outside of my family who saw potential in me. She believed in me and always encouraged me to push myself just a little bit harder than I thought I could manage. “When you feel like you’ve reached your max, try even harder,” she would say, “110% is always better than 100%.”

I haven’t been back to that classroom since she moved to North Carolina. I wanted to always remember it the way she had it. It was so perfect that way. The room almost seemed to reflect her. Even though she may have forgotten me in the sea of students that have come through her door, I know there will always be a special place in my heart for Mrs. Charlotte Reedy, my educator and best friend.