I can't speak for all men, but when it comes to the men in my life, their idea of quality bonding time has involved some form of sports.

My grandfather and uncle would spend Saturdays at Georgia games; evenings were spent watching the Braves or some God-awful wrestling. This was their father-son time even though they worked more than 50 hours a week together.

There were no deep, emotional talks. The only words uttered were about bad plays, good pitches or the assorted curse words my Pop would say. The outcome of the game dictated Pop's mood for the next day or so and depending on how bad it was, the game was not mentioned again.

I don't get it.

Granted, women are natural born nurturers - we have to talk through things, we have to analyze every nuance. Our idea of bonding involves a lot of talking - usually about how we feel - and something chocolate.

Which is the reason I go to the hair salon.

Lamar doesn't understand why I make my appointment weeks in advance and am filled with excitement the morning of. But Lamar's idea of a good haircut is somewhere cheap and fast - the cheaper and faster the better.

"What do you do in there anyway?" he asked.

For starters, we talk - not just me and Amy, my stylist - but all of us in the salon. We talk about wrinkle creams, children and cellulite.

Amy will announce someone's recent accomplishments and we all offer our congratulations or someone mentions another person who needs prayer. And boys - we talk about boys. Our husbands, boyfriends or the dreaded exes. We discuss everything and strangers become new friends before I am under the dryer to process. It's almost like a high school slumber party, group therapy and prayer meeting all rolled into one.

"Why do you want to know what we do?" I answered Lamar's question with a question of my own.

I am not sure my husband would understand. He thinks it's just about deciding on bangs or changing my hair color. He doesn't realize that it is something much more than that.

Like most women, I don't have time for the ‘girl's night out' and would really rather be at home with my family. I am too picky about who I leave Cole with for us to have a date night. So my time at the salon is my special two hours of much needed bonding time with the girls. My soul is fed and my greys are covered at least for a few months.

There's a part of me that will never understand why men consider screaming at a TV, watching other men fight over a ball, quality time together. That notion of bonding leaves them more upset in the end, with no one talking about what's really important.

And at the end of the game, no one's greys are even covered.

Sudie Crouch is an award-winning humor columnist and certified life coach. She lives in the north Georgia mountains with her family and four insane, but fairly well behaved dogs.