"Cause then you’ll find out that it wasn’t those real big things you loved about him. It was the real small things. You know, things that you’ve seen a thousand times around the house but never paid attention to like helping with the groceries. Helping in the yard and painting and repairing and paying the bills." - Natalie Cole
This blog was inspired by an eight-legged creature and a six-cylinder vehicle.
Over the past four weeks, I have been traveling back and forth. On one particular night, I arrived home to a humongous spider in my kitchen. No one warned me that Columbus and Ohio are apparently very arachnid friendly. After letting out a very feminine scream, I tackled the spider all by my lonesome.
Fast forward about a week later and I am getting in my car to go to work knowing that I have a busy weekend of driving and partying ahead of me. I get in my lovely ten-year old Silver Bullet only for the radio to come on. While I enjoy a good morning show usually, I would’ve preferred the revving of my engine. I call AAA. They determine that my issue is my battery. Once they get my car up and running, I drive to AutoZone and $100 later, my problem is solved and I go on with my life as planned.
However, as a woman raised by men who are or were mechanics and handymen, I had several moments where I didn’t want to be solving these problems by myself. The freedom that comes with living by yourself is great, but it can also turn into a burden when creatures enter your domicile, cars break down or when you have to reach something on the top shelf in a closet with nine-foot ceilings when your height only measures five feet. And sometimes, your back hurts and you just want a massage from someone with strong, massive, masculine hands.
So while I’m not really making time for men like that, I do want them around sometimes. If they’re raised right, they do bring something to the table.
I’m a 21st-century woman raised with some mid 20th-century values. It is the hand that I have been dealt.