Not like, “You Da Man! but because you are the man of the family and something needs to be taken care of that nobody else can deal with efficiently.
It comes way too early for some after the loss of a father. Sometimes when you grow up in a broken home and have younger siblings, you have responsibilities beyond your age thrust upon you. Sometimes you just seem to collect these responsibilities as you age.
It is what it is and every guy has to come to grips with it at some point whether they like it or not.
Those that can’t or won’t cope with it have their own demons to deal with and I won’t bother going into it.
In my case, it started at the tender age of 8 when my parents split up and my dad got custody of me and my little brother.
He worked, partied and chased a lot of tail so it was up to me to take care of myself and my little brother for a long time before the rest of the family put the ass on him and he tried hiring babysitters.
We went through a few because by that time I was a full fledged wild boy and we pulled shit that you would think were only possible in movies.
My youngest Aunt was finally tasked with trying to tame us and keep us in line.
Trust me when I say she only had limited success.
Then my dad remarried and the new wife also had two boys, both younger than I am.
Long story short, there was the expected dick measuring and pissing contests because me being the oldest didn’t sit well with some people and at the tender age of fifteen I said Adios.
Not quite like that, it was more like shove it in your ass, I’m out of here to be exact.
So I have been older than my years for a long fucking time.
Speaking of time, a lot of it has passed since then and almost all of my immediate family on my mom’s side, including her, are long dead now.
My dad kicked the bucket six or seven years ago too
That pretty much leaves me, being the oldest son, as the Patriarch of what is left.
My wife’s parents had 3 girls and no boys.
Since her father is in his mid to late 70’s and has been diagnosed with Alzheimers, that leaves me as the De Facto Patriarch of that whole family now also.
It is what it is.
So Wednesday night, as I am literally getting undressed for bed, the Wifely Unit springs on me that I have to go over to her parents and attempt to get one of their vehicles through the Smog test so it can get license plate tags put on it.
I won’t go into the entire scenario here but needless to say this is no small feat that needs to get done and I have until one o:clock this afternoon to do it.
It is almost 8 AM right now, for some reason I popped awake at 5:30 this morning and have been sitting here going through EMails and what not kind of waiting before I drive 35 miles to get this shit show started,
The very first thing I have to do is investigate some new concern with this vehicle that has something to do with “two pieces that wouldn’t move under the back of the rig in the middle” that wouldn’t let the vehicle move when put into gear.
Some of the most awesome information a mechanic could possibly get.
My first guess is the Emergency brake cable system binding up. We shall see. Then I have to take it to a Jiffy Lube and get the oil changed because it was black and filthy an entire year ago and hasn’t been changed in that time period, because Old Timer’s Disease.
Then and only then, can I take it fifteen miles away to the testing station and roll the dice.
So it’s these kinds of things that a guy has to do “Because he is a man”.
No sweat, challenge accepted.
It is what it is and I will do the best I can under the circumstances.
Because that’s what we do.
Every damned day.