There may not be life on Mars, but I think there are probably video games.

I’m not one of those gender-specific parents.

I’ve said this before.

If my son wants to wear some Disney Princess high heels, a tutu, and carry around a purse, no big deal.

If my daughter wants to roll around in the dirt and refuses to wear a dress?

Whatevs.

As long as they are happy.

That being said, after experiencing every stage of child development in this house, I feel confident in saying that there is absolutely an inherent, genetic difference between boys and girls.

Little girls like to take care of people.

They like to nurture.

And teach.

The possession of a uterus and vagina just makes it an automatic.

Little boys?

They like games.

And gadgets.

Shit with buttons on it.

That penis of theirs hasn’t been nicknamed a joystick for nothing.

Of course there will be exceptions.

I’m not saying that a male doesn’t have a nurturing side.

Or that girls don’t like electronic crap.

But yesterday I was trying to perform the dreaded task of unloading and reloading the dishwasher.

It was 4:30, and I wanted to keep the kids out of the kitchen so I could just get it done.

So I enlisted the help of Number 3 and Number 4.

“Number 4, go hang out with Number 5 and 6 in the playroom until I am done with this,” I said.

Number 7 had woken up from her nap, but she was still in her crib.

“Number 3, go hang out with Number 7 until I’m done.”

I used the same vocabulary for both kids.

Go hang out.

They both followed the directions.

In fact, they all behaved so well that  I got the dishwasher taken care of and then I was even able to fold a load of laundry.

After that, it was still quiet, which made me nervous, so I went to check on everyone.

I walked into the playroom and saw this:

Number 4 was reading one of her library books to Number 5 and 6.

And she was asking questions.

Trying to teach them something.

Why can’t we girls just relax?

I took a picture and went upstairs.

And here is what I found up there…

That’s not a book.

And not exactly what I had in mind when I had asked him to hang out with his sister.

But they were “hanging out,” that’s for sure.

Two words.

Two genders.

Two interpretations.

Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus?

Yes.

Yes, they are.

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