Men, hide your women. Women – go into your homes and lock the doors. I am feeling virile.
Let me explain – I’m not necessarily the typical guy that you see pictured on Father’s day cards — I don’t own power tools, I don’t eat red meat (I don’t even own a barbecue), and I feel great indifference towards car.
All that changed last Friday. My family and I were on the way to my sister-in-law’s house for the Sabbath when, all of a sudden, the car started making noises. At first, I thought it was another car on the road but then realized it was our own Honda Accord that was experiencing a malfunction. When we got to our destination, I got down and looked under the car. That’s right, I did – damn it! Okay, so I was still in my suit and put a towel under me, but I still had a faint smell of grease on me afterward. The next night, along with my brother-in-law and nephew, I jacked up the car and took a look underneath. I even attempted to fix the car so that we could get home safely. My fix — which included duct tape, McGyver-style — lasted until about two minutes into the drive home. The next morning we were supposed to go to a pool party at my brother’s house, several hours away. After some research (thanks to my wife and Google) we determined that the culprit was the heat shield, and that it could be safely removed. So, once again I jacked up the car and — with the proper tools — I removed the part. I saved the day. My family and I were able to go on our road trip. Pretty manly, I’d say.
But wait, there’s more.
This past week, I got a power tool for father’s day. I really wanted it too. I now am the proud owner of a weed whacker. I look forward to using it and whacking some weeds. They’ll know whose boss after I’m done.
Then, there was yesterday. My neighbor and I rented a power washer. There was no stopping me. I cranked that sucker up so that the dirt and mold that had invaded the siding of my house didn’t stand a chance. No sir, not on my watch they didn’t. I pushed into bushes and climbed the ladder all in the name of cleansing my home. I even washed the car and cleaned up the oils that formed on the side walk. This is my castle, damn it. I insisted my boys take a turn using the power washer despite their fear of the noise it was making and the vibration. After all, one day they will be men too, and I must prepare them.
So, how do I top off this manly feeling? I was thinking of grilling up a steak and watching Gladiator. Unga Bunga!