Super Hero

Iron Man child size
After looking at different toys my son ‘dug his claws’ into a mask and a muscles shirt of Iron Man which he wore immediately.

Last Tuesday my husband had a very important meeting in Sarasota, Florida. If you recall my dear hubby injured his back and leg golfing at the beginning of April. I have a confession to make; the first week I actually laughed behind his back every time I saw him limp. Now, three weeks and over half a dozen chiropractic sessions later, my heart goes out to him. This is why on Monday night I told him, “I don’t think you should drive baby. How about we come with you?” His face lit up. 

Before hitting the road the next day, I only had to find a dog sitter. God is good, and my dear Cuban neighbor said yes to my plea when I asked her. With the puppies taken care of, we loaded the car and drove away a little after four in the afternoon. Instead of taking I-95 South, we took back roads in St Johns County.

We passed through Green Cove, Stark and other small (according to my husband) “teeth are optional” cities. I used to think that he exaggerated, but then I confirmed it at the counter of a gas station. Country folks have different priorities, and a full set of teeth seem to be low on the totem pole. They would rather having a jacked up ‘pickupem’ truck or a trampoline in the backyard.

We arrived at the Sheraton Downtown in Tampa before nine p.m. We decided to stay there instead of Sarasota -which is an hour south- so we could take our son to The Florida Aquarium in the morning. We had breakfast bright and early and headed for the aquarium. During all this time, my husband was walking alongside us in pain, but trying to have a good time for our son. The only moment my husband started turning into The Hulk was when I stopped to buy our family picture and received the entire sales pitch from the lady behind the counter. Then his shirt ripped and he turned green… just kidding!

Once in the car, my husband did turn into Super Business Guy for the two o’clock meeting. He forgot the pain and drove South with only one thing in his mind: making a great presentation. I dropped him off at the office building, wished him good luck, and gave him a kiss. My son and I had time to kill so we drove around the business park and we found the mom’s oasis -AKA Target. After looking at different toys my son ‘dug his claws’ into a mask and a muscles shirt of Iron Man which he wore immediately. We left the store to pick my husband up and when he got in the car I saw the satisfaction in his face. He got the job done!.

Although a famous book tittle says, men are from Mars and women are from Venus, I learned a great lesson from my husband this week. He wakes up every morning -destroys the kitchen cooking breakfast- and gets ready to tackle an entire day without worrying about the stupid things that can ruin my day. For example, he doesn’t care if the humidity curls his hair of if the people at the office are ‘mean’ to him. He cares about getting the job done. Sure, my husband could apply the same concept at home and help out more than just putting clothes in the laundry basket; yet he does a million other things which I don’t have to ask for to make our lives better.

Men have always been a mystery to me. Growing up without a father does that to you I guess. I had my share of broken hearts and lost faith in men in my early twenties, but then I met my husband, had my son and my perspective about them changed.

My two men have taught me that we are simply different, meaning they are clumsy, forgetful and even gross (I am referring to the daily bodily sounds and smells produced by their bodies). I just hope my little boy will follow his daddy ‘s footsteps and grow to be a man who gets the job done. If that happens he will become a good man and will transform into the Super Hero of a fortunate woman.

Thanks for reading and sharing.

Xiomara Spadafora

Back to xiomaraspadafora.com

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s