posted by Matt W on October 9th, 2013

I’ve been married for over 25 years. While I definitely got the better end of the deal, there have been many times when my wife literally lost her mind. Like when she was pregnant and yelled at me to clean up the dishes I left on the counter, which she had actually left on the counter. “Sure thing honey. And if you need me, I’ll be out in the garage working on a ‘project’ the rest of the night.” I blame the hormones. Joe A. and I have had many discussions over the years, talking each other off the marriage ledge because our wives went wacky for a few days. My daughter’s worse.

For well over 14 years, my daughter was the most stable and joyful person I ever met. While she still is obviously wonderful, over the past year she has had monthly adventures into crazy town that put her mother firmly in the minor leagues of hormonal craziness.

The first episode I remember was about a year ago telling her to do her English homework. She lit me up. She yelled at me, cried, sobbed, yelled, stormed off, and then came back to yell some more. Then she broke down and literally wept. Uncontrollable sobs for 30 minutes. Is this the same person that snuggled with me on the couch the previous night? As she had grown about 8 inches in what seemed like the previous 10 days, I figured there was probably more going on than a tough English essay. Pretty smart for a stupid old dad, if I do say so myself. My wife broke the news that my daughter was becoming a woman. While I’m not proud of this, my first thought was “Crap, now there are two of them.”

Over the course of the year, there have been many different father-daughter episodes. A few days after each episode, when I’m sure I’m speaking with Dr. Jekyll and not Mr. Hyde, I like to remind my daughter to remember that I’m not really evil and I am still the same person I was a few days back. She reminds me that it’s virtually impossible to think logically when she’s all wacked-out and to remember she’s still my little sweetie. Then we’re good.

The fact that this new Robert Louis Stevenson inspired routine happened as my sons moved out of the house hasn’t helped any either. While playing golf with a good buddy that knows my family pretty well, he asked what my wife and daughter were doing. I replied that my daughter was a little wacked-out so my wife had taken them for mani-pedi’s that afternoon. After explaining to him what a mani-pedi was, he replied, “Wow, you really, really need your son back from college soon, because your house is in dire need of some more testosterone.”

“No truer words have been spoken” was my tired reply. “No truer words have been spoken.”



File Under King of the Castle