On fathers and husbands!

Is it true that a girl looks for a little of her father in the husband she marries? I am sure there will have been some studies on this and polarised views on any choice. My vehement opposition is both for the father and the husband bit. My father and the father of my children are two very different people, and if it were not for me - the common link, would inhabit very different worlds altogether. Yet, it is fun to see them sharing a drink and making small talk. And to know that my daughters and me will have a very different view of perfection when it comes to our fathers:)

Growing up I had the perfect father, well he was a bit short-tempered, but I thought all fathers are.  We children gave enough cause for the same. I would bite my nails, a horrible habit and every Sunday, would have only one or two fully grown nails. Then I was a bit of that timid dreamy child, who had to be coaxed into interaction and activities and took some time to come out on my own. Read the amount of patience needed to get me to do things. My brother was a happy-go-lucky kid who would decide to play with every toy in the house at the same time,  and at just the very time when my father would get back from work. And of course, he would remember his Maths homework or the test about 5 minutes before leaving for school. Or his food habits, roti with jaggery or roti with onions, on good days he would eat potatoes o:O

My mother was a busy doctor, and there were times when she would be called away for an emergency. It was always my Father who would be the stand-by, making us perfectly cooked parathas in shapes of different countries. His omlettes were to die for. He is the person who will make chutneys, custards, ketchups, ice-creams, chop vegetables to help my mother. I remember other women (all of them) alternately sniggering and envying, but my Mother was a content lady. And the biggest sacrifice he made was with his career, when at the age of 40 he started all over again. Not an easy feat that.

When I got married, I was in for a bit of shock. The gentle and ever-helpful fiance had morphed into this unrecognisable husband, who would not share chores equally. Neither chores nor equal was in his vocabulary and we do speak different languages :) I remember coming back from a particular bad day at work at 9 pm and being greeted to what's for dinner? Did I throw at hime my bag or was it the Bisleri bottle and then started to cry. It was home-delivery once again.  So you get the picture?

We waited to have children, because I wanted us to have somewhat similar definitions for basic words like 'responsibility', 'jointly', amongst others. I also had some growing up of mine to do. But maybe I am being too harsh on him. The kids would any day prefer their father to me. He is the 'Boss' as my daughters tell me. He makes things happen. He decides and sees the decision through, unlike me, who will dither and dither. The first thing he hears when he enters the house is a seemingly empty space with muffled giggles and sometimes tiny feet peeking out from behind the curtain. It's almost the same hiding place for my younger one every day.

He is the one who gets invited for "Let's do Masti-pasti" - a loose definition for rolling on the bed, tickling one another and squealing in delight. The practical Mother gets the tea and evening snacks ready. He has the magic soothing touch to make pains go away and his stories make super-heroes come alive. He can't whip up a gourmet meal but he can educate the kids on healthy food and need for sports and exercise. Maths may not be his favorite subject but he will endeavour in my rare absence. But he surely  can make any other subject come wonderfully alive.

He is the one who can put them to sleep with tenderness and not the feigned patience which I employ at the end of the day.  Or how his one stern call can make them scuttle away to put their toys in place while I've been going on and on like a stuck record, as if speaking to myself. I see him with the two little ones and am reassured that they are blessed to have him as their father. As I am with mine. Touchwood. Of course, Mother and me have a crib session about our husbands sometimes.

Cross-Posted at IndianMomsConnect here