Merrick, your mama knows you love the big guys, the big guns, the big trucks! Why right across the street lives a man you adore!
Not only is he a professional golfer (retired from the PGA, even!), he drives a GIGANTIC truck! Yes, yes, your Mama knows: that truck is the coolest thing in the world.
In fact, Daddy should get one.
Every time we drive past one of these
you announce that this is just the kind of truck that Daddy should like.
Two houses down holds another wonder: Chip! Not only is this neighbor six feet tall and a couple of inches, he drives: a train!
Nobody is cooler than Chip. His garage? Chalk full of power tools.
And wood, screws, nails, big metal items with blades and all kinds of tough guy treasures. You are of the firm believe that your father should have a garage just like Chip's!
And maybe drive a train!
Merrick, how can she say this delicately? You were born with one hand scratching your balls and the other hand holding a sledge hammer. If Tough Guy or He Man was a job description, this would be your vocation. Shoot Bambi? Your mother once put that to Stryker.
"Stryker, would you like to go deer hunting with Uncle Steve?"
Stryker: "You mean sit freezing in the woods until a living breathing creature gets close to you so that you can kill it and steal its life away and then slice its guts out while maybe its relatives watch nearby?"
Matron: "Sure, that about sums it up."
Stryker: "No thank you."
Merrick: "Can I go instead?"
Merrick, your mother apologies for the karmic cough that landed you in a family of intellects and artists. She promises you there is room in the hall closet for your hockey stick, base ball bat and wide array of weaponry.
But she cannot transform your father into the Hunk-o-Man he is not.
Merrick, your father will not be driving a truck. His vehicle visions steer more toward the BMW or Volvo he cannot afford or maybe the lesser Honda Pilot. That's as close to a truck as this man will ever get.
Your father isn't the kind of guy who will build a house with his bare hands. He is the kind of guy who will decorate the house somebody else built. While sipping an espresso.
Merrick, your father isn't going to be driving a train or becoming a professional athlete. He will know, however, the exact right shade for the second floor hallway and which lighting fixture looks best by the fireplace.
There's the hard truth, little one. Your Daddy rocks on many levels! He's the one who puts you to bed and monitors your homework, the man strong enough to swing you over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes and carry you upstairs.
But he's never going to drive a monster truck. It's time to lay those cards on the table, tea leaves for future therapy.
Your Daddy is not a He Man or Tough Guy. If you haven't noticed, your father spends more time on his hair than your mother does. He looks at his behind in the mirror and says: "do these pants make me look fat?" He enjoys creating an artful autumn bouquet.
Your Daddy is a Metrosexual.
Do you hear that? The sound of some future therapist's bank account, already lighting up.