Juanita said, “At the end of the day, it’s just better being a guy. That’s all there is to it. All you have to do is just pick up your clothes and leave.”

I wanted to dispute that with some profound statement about the advantages of being a woman, if just to make my sister feel better, but I felt they would sound hollow. Truth was, I was glad I was a man. Juanita was right; all I had to do was keep women at a distance, while staying focused on my career, and I had my whole life in front of me. But could a woman stay focused just the same without being in love with a man?

I thought about the successful female models I had been around over the years. Many of them had done quite well at keeping men at bay. Although they rarely had to worry about chasing a man. And some of them had long-standing boyfriends who were more than thrilled to be involved with them.

Ultimately, I told my sister, “You might just have to let this fatherhood thing go and just treat a man like your brother. You know, you fight with him, you make up, and you never get pregnant by him.”

Juanita at least chuckled at it. Then she said, “But I want a family of my own, Tee. I’m almost thirty now.”

“Well then, get married first,” I told her. “If you get married first, then at least you know that the man is willing to confess his love and loyalty to you. That’s the way family structures have lasted for many thousands of years. And don’t tell me nothing about what’s going on now with so many women raising children themselves, because if you didn’t care about having a man in your life, you wouldn’t be pregnant, and you wouldn’t be calling me right now to complain about the nigga.”

Juanita chuckled again. I didn’t mean to disrespect my fellow brothers with the use of the word, I just understood how violently our women felt about us whenever we failed to do what they wanted us to do. I was a nigga to many women myself, just because I wanted some milk and not the cow.

When my phone buzzed from the other line again, Juanita told me, “I don’t want to hold you up anymore. I feel a little better now, and I’m almost back home, so thanks for talking to me and hearing me out.”

Nevertheless, I was still concerned about the final decision on her pregnancy.

I said, “Okay, but I’m still gonna be honest with you before I hang up this phone, Juanita.”

She beat me to the punch. “I’ll think about, Terrance. Okay? I’ll think about it.”

There wasn’t much to think about in my book; no marriage, no kid. It was a simple one-two punch to me. But I wasn’t a woman, and I still couldn’t understand a lot of the decisions they made.