Over the past few weeks, my wife and I have exchanged jokes over which of the two sexes is superior.

We’ve attempted to one-up each other at home and even traded-off a few e-mails concerning the subject matter.

It’s gotten so competitive that when we’re on the phone with each other, one attempts to get in “Guys Rule” or “Girls Rule” as the last word. I called her office last week for some reason or the other and just before she hung-up I heard one of her two female co-workers yell, “Girls Rule.”

This is grounds for an all-out war!

She really thought she had me late last week in an e-mail. It contained a joke about five men and one woman clinging to a rope dangling below a helicopter. The rope just couldn’t hold all the weight so a plan was hatched for one person to volunteer to let go. The woman bravely made that decision, prompting the men to clap their hands in appreciation.

Very funny…not!

However, what my dear, lovely wife fails to remember is what I do for a living. I write things. Much to my delight, we have tons of paper and a big barrel of ink here in our plant. And, low and behold, we’ve got a press that is capable of printing my words.

I hope she’ll remember that as she reads this piece I’ve simply titled: “Why it’s great being a man.”

For men, phone conversations last 30 seconds.

We use only one suitcase for a five-day vacation.

Our bathroom lines are 80 percent shorter.

We can open jars.

A 12-pack of toilet paper can last upwards of three months.

Our old friends don’t care if we’ve lost or gained weight.

When clicking through the TV channels, we don’t stop on every shot of someone crying.

We don’t have to lug a bag of &uot;necessary&uot; items with us everywhere we go.

We can go to the bathroom alone.

Our last name stays put.

We can kill our own food.

We don’t mind one bit taking a fish off the line.

Cleaning the toilet is optional.

Our idea of a perfect seven-course meal is a six-pack and a pizza.

We can be showered and ready in 10 minutes.

Wedding plans take care of themselves.

If someone forgets to invite us to something, we can still be friends.

Our underwear costs $7.50 for a three-pack.

We don’t have to shave below our neck.

If we’re 34 and single, no one notices.

Chocolate is just another snack.

We can quietly enjoy a car ride from the passenger seat.

We never have to worry about another guy’s feelings.

Three pair of shoes are more than enough.

We can say anything and not worry about what people think.

We can whip off our shirts on a hot day.

Car mechanics tell us the truth.

We don’t care if someone doesn’t notice our new haircut.

Together, we can watch a game in silence for hours without our buddy thinking, “Gee, he must be mad at me.&uot;

One mood, all the time.

We can admire Clint Eastwood without having to starve ourselves to look like him.

Gray hair and wrinkles add character.

Wedding dress: $2,000; Tux rental: $100 bucks.

We don’t care if someone is talking behind our back.

The remote is ours and ours alone.

We don’t try to pretend that we’re &uot;freshening up&uot; for an excuse to hit the toilet.

If another guy shows up at the party wearing the same outfit, we’re more apt to become lifelong buddies.

The occasional, well-rendered belch is practically expected from us guys.

If something mechanical doesn’t work, we can bash it with a hammer, yell a few obscenities and throw it across the room.

New shoes don’t cut, blister or mangle our feet.

We think the idea of drop-kicking that small, ankle-biting dog is funny.

If we retain water, it’s in a canteen.

Directions….we don’t need no stinking directions!

We get extra credit for the slightest act of thoughtfulness.

And the final reason why it’s so great to be a man….flowers and/or duct tape fix everything!

Deborah, I await your response while I sleep on the couch.