They’re Practically Twins!
Considering how much I adored my father, it was astonishing to me that I fell in love with and married a man who was so different from my dad.
Take Sports, for example. My father was a true sports fan. Football, basketball, baseball, golf. Though I am a horrible athlete, I know a lot about sports, because I loved sitting with Dad on Sunday afternoon. The only sport he didn’t have much affection for was auto racing. So guess what is the only sport my husband likes? And not only auto racing, but specifically drag racing. He and his brother actually campaigned a dragster quite successfully for a long time. “The cars that race for five seconds and a parachute comes out?” my father asked. Yeah.
And speaking of cars, Dad had a sharp technical mind and engineering background. But he was just fine to let ALL the car repair get done by someone else. He had absolutely no inclination to open a hood. Hubby, on the other hand, can take apart and build a car from scratch. He actually built a dump truck early in our marriage. Mostly out of scrap. And it ran for years, and then he sold it – for a profit.
My father and my husband have completely different temperaments too. My father was always such a light-hearted guy – he woke up smiling and stayed that way. He sang – not well. He told corny jokes – also not well. My husband is serious. A born worrier. An earnest soul who takes everything to heart.
And they are a world apart in their willingness to express their opinions – especially concerning their fellow man. My father never said a bad word about anyone. I remember a boyfriend I had way back when who was a complete arrogant jerk. I was playing cribbage with my father one night and Dad said very softly to me, “I’m sorry, but I just don’t like that guy very much.” If my husband had met that same person, he would have been a bit more forceful. My husband has the most extensive vocabulary you have ever heard – he knows more synonyms for ‘moron’ that I ever knew existed. With a colorful range of adjectives to precede the noun.
Yes, I married the complete opposite of my father.
Just last week, we were in the car and my husband sneezed. And he took out his handkerchief and blew his nose. While steering the car WITH HIS KNEES!
Oh My God!
My father did that all the time! I remember knee-steering happening from the time I was sitting in my little very unsafe car seat.
Do all men blow their noses while steering with their knees? Or has my father reappeared?
And the very next day…
My husband farted. And walked away as he said with complete nonchalance, “Oops.”