By Gina Angostura
Columnist

Professor Henry Higgins, in “My Fair Lady,” asked a question that has been filling women with ire for decades: Why can’t a woman be more like a man? The song seems outdated these days, of course, but it still irks me to no end. So I want to turn the tables, sort of, and ask, what if a man were more like a woman?

I’ll tell you one thing; 4-inch heels and pantyhose would become a thing of the past if men had to wear them. They are the modern-day version of foot binding, as far as I’m concerned. Sure they look nice, but I’d love to see a size 13 basketball shoe-wearing guy jam his toes into a pointed vice and walk around on tiptoe all day. Cranky would not be word enough to describe how he’d feel by the time he got home. And I’m sorry, neckties do not begin to compare to pantyhose in the level of discomfort. Let’s see some burly guy struggle to stretch a piece of nylon that’s small enough to fit the Kate Moss Barbie up around a belly that’s digested way too many Italian subs and a rear end that’s had time to memorize every thread of the pattern on the living room sofa. But since we’re not really asking what if a man dressed like a woman, let’s move on.

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A male friend of mine told me if God were a woman – and I’m not saying she’s not, okay – she wouldn’t have rested on the seventh day. She would have said “I liked it better the way it was on the first day!”

To get back at him for that, I’m ready to get down and dirty. So, if men were more like women:

• They’d bring covered dishes to football tailgate parties. No one would remember the beer, yet forget the bottle opener.

• Their closets would contain a hundred pair of black shoes, but none of them would be comfortable.

• They’d cry when the guys finally pulled off the heist in “Ocean’s 12.”

• They’d form book groups, but only read Tom Clancy novels: “I agree, Bob. I really enjoyed the emotional depth he was able to create in the scene where the nuclear warhead goes off in the Kremlin.”

• There would still be wars, but they’d be over in time for “Desperate Housewives.”

• Once a month, they’d search the cupboards for the baking chocolate they KNEW they’d left in there last Christmas.

• They’d think twice before going out in THAT outfit.

• They’d worry their significant other wouldn’t find them attractive when they developed a beer belly that made them look nine months pregnant, instead of patting it fondly while sprawled on the couch eating Funyuns.

• They wouldn’t let themselves GET nine months pregnant because no way are they going to do anything that would make other, more important parts of their bodies look smaller.

• They’d ask a woman what they were thinking.

But, you know, we really don’t want men to be more like us, do we, ladies? The edges have been blurred enough now that they’re using skin care products and dying their beards without them taking over our all our unique qualities. They will never understand, and we prefer them to appreciate us because of those little differences. We want them to say, even without the heels and hose, the words of the immortal Higgins: “By Jove, I think she’s got it!”