Since the dawn of time...men have been stepping in it

 "Amy, why are you taking a picture of an old, ratty sandal before tossing it in the trash?" you ask. Well...first of all. I'm NOT throwing it in the trash. Brad insists that his dog-chewed shoe is still perfectly functional and that it would be wasteful to discard it. Second, the picture is scientific evidence supporting a new evolutionary theory developed...by me! Yes, when I'm not staring brainlessly at the television or writing passive-aggressive haiku poetry or posting angrily bitter and sarcastic memes on Facebook, I think deep thoughts. 

I was in the middle of thinking these deep thoughts while scooping dog doo off of my lawn. 

How is it, I wondered, that I so easily evade these little land minds while Brad takes a hit almost every day? I am certainly not more alert or agile than my husband. I have the spatial awareness of a drunken sailor on a sinking ship while Brad can intuitively locate a rabbit trail in dense brush in an unfamiliar forest. 

Yet, without fail, time and time again, it is Brad who ends up with poo on his shoe. I could mostly ignore this phenomenon until he stepped on a pile in his hideous sandals with the aerated soles. Remember the spaghetti-making tool that Playdough produced when we were kids? Super fun. Now picture Brad's hole-infused footwear squishing sh!t. Super gross. And tossed, unceremoniously, out on my front stoop in the hopes that a heavy rain would help. 

When Mother Nature failed to intervene with a sole-cleansing downpour, I decided to take one for the team. While methodically poking a stick up through each clogged hole, I contemplated the mysteries of the universe and was suddenly struck with a lightning bolt revelation about evolution. 

Let's return to our 4th grade curriculum where we were first introduced to the term hunter-gatherer. If you recall, and I'm sure you do...you-little-scholar-you...the men (Let's, for the sake of argument, call them Mighty Hunters), would, after beating their...drums, disappear into the woods in search of meat. The women, after rolling their eyes, would gather the makings of a healthy salad and enjoy the temporary silence. 

What does this have to do with Brad's shoe and dog poo, you wonder? Well, my inquisitive friend, it explains why men have a greater tendency to step in it than women do. If you apply the evolutionary principle of the hunter-gather to this scenario, you realize that, when MOST men walk, their heads are up, eyes to the horizon, gazes searching the shadows. When MOST women walk, our heads are down, scanning for smoothie ingredients.  

CLICK!

Are you temporarily blinded by the bright lightbulb that just went on?

So dazzling are my scientific ponderings that I have writer's block and find myself unable to construct a conclusion. You'll have to settle for a related joke:

Why doesn't Winnie-the-Pooh wear shoes? Because he has "bear" feet!

And, no. Brad is NEVER allowed outside without shoes.