Day 66: Holy Hell, I've Turned Into my Pops

Most girls grow up and one day, sometime between their 28th and 45th years realize they've turned into their mothers. So imagine my surprise when I suddenly realized that I've become my father.

To say that I am vastly different from my parents would be an understatement. For one, I'm adopted, so my "parents" are not my biological 'rents. There are some interesting studies to do regarding nature vs. nurture to be sure, but I'm more interested in how I became the man that for years I didn't really like all that much. Pops left us when I was five. Or rather, he left Mom. We still saw him, but I grew up knowing he left because he cheated and broke my Mother's heart. I also met the many women that he dated and/or let move in with him -- all of them younger, some much, much younger.

Pops liked the young, hot women and he also liked them slightly damaged. He has a hero complex I think, wanting to "save" them from whatever troubles might be keeping them down. Generally, they stay with him for year or a few, using his house, his cars, his money and his security, then when they're strong they leave. It wasn't until I found myself living with him at the age of 25 that I really got to know and to like him. He's a good guy, smart too, he just happens to like a hefty share of young, hot pieces of ass and I have to say, I'm not far from that legacy myself.

Looking back on my dating life, there are more than a few young, impressionable boys on the lineup. I'm prone to the slightly banged up models myself, but I also appreciate the innocence and simplicity that 18-26 set brings to the picture. In talking with a friend it came to light that not only was I attracted to the physically gifted baby boys among us, I objectified them. They didn't have actual names, they had various nicknames. I frequently called them "recruits" and anyone I dated more than once was a "repeat offender." They were young, pretty, innocent, and disposable. Clearly, I'm not my Mother. Mom was a virgin when she married Pops and a true lady, complete with high-necked collars, ruffles, and tightly crossed legs. I, on the other hand, was once described by my cousin thusly: "You're weird, Ame. You bake and knit, but fuck like a guy." Don't I know it and turns out there's a good reason. I grew up to be my Daddy.

This is mostly in good fun. I certainly have managed a few long-term relationships and my husband, though currently more appropriately defined as my limbo-husband, is my own age and pretty damn perfect for me (hear that husband?). There was a time though and it's still evident in the boys I choose to look at twice, that I liked them young, hot, and ready for anything. So how did this happen? I suppose it no longer matters. I'm married and hoping to stay that way, but it is rather curious and slightly amusing to suddenly realize after all these years that I somehow became the man I used to dislike. I always loved Pops, but that didn't mean I had to like the man. Now I am that man and it's given me a whole new perspective into his life and personality. Turns out he's not such a bad role model after all. I'm a good woman, smart too, I just have a weakness for short stints with easy prey. Don't worry, it's perfectly okay to objectify them from a distance. I am, after all, a respectable married lady now.