I believe the term is “mansplaining.”
Not to mansplain, but if you’re unfamiliar, that’s when a man condescendingly explains something to a woman that he is certain she could possibly know nothing about because she is a woman.
For instance, how an internal combustion gasoline engine works, or how a play-action pass momentarily freezes the linebackers and keeps them from dropping back into pass coverage.
The term is attributed to author Rebecca Solnit who coined it in an essay in 2008.
Well Rebecca, I feel your pain.
I got “womansplained” in the produce department a couple of days ago.
I needed two potatoes to bake on the grill. If you’ve never baked potatoes on the grill, you’re missing a real treat.
I wanted medium-sized ones. I didn’t want a whole bag, because a bag has two or three acceptable ones. The rest are the size of golf balls.
Then there are what the store calls the “bakers,” which I fully believe have been genetically engineered to grow to the size of footballs.
Do you like how I’ve already thrown in three sports references in a piece about mansplaining?
Anyway, then I saw some that were the size I wanted. I wasn’t wild about the fact that they were the ones wrapped in plastic wrap ready for microwaving, but I grabbed two anyway.
A woman was standing there next to me. She said, “You know you can do those yourself at home.”
I don’t recall what I said exactly, but she continued.
“You can buy regular potatoes then wrap them in plastic wrap yourself.”
First of all, if we’re standing a foot apart, and I don’t know you, don’t talk to me. We’re still in a pandemic.
Second of all, it should be pretty obvious that anyone — even a man in the produce section — could figure out that he could wrap his own potatoes in plastic wrap when he got home.
I laughed out loud.
Of course, I can never come up with a zinger in the moment. So instead I told her about my preference for medium-sized potatoes, that these were the size that I wanted, and then I thanked her for her advice.
And my professionally wrapped medium potatoes and I moved on.
It made my day. It really did.