Dads Just Don't Think Like Moms

So this past weekend was the Great "Fix-The-Leaky-Roof" celebration. Dave rose bright and early Saturday morning to get started. After searching around for a place that would rent us a roofing nail gun (surprisingly, out of the 8,000 tools my husband owns, this is not one of them!), I ended up having to drive across town to get one. When I returned, I was treated with this amazing sight:

In case you're wondering what is so amazing about this, did you notice the five year old boy who has a tendency to trip over his own feet standing on the pitched roof???? Daddy apparently decided Garrett was old enough to get up on the roof and "help". Mommy, however, was not so sure. I wasn't really too worried about Garrett tripping and falling, it was more that I figured he would decided to play Tarzan, or see if he could jump down, or try any one of a thousand crazy stunts he is capable of.
But, since he had already been up there for half and hour, I knew that making him come down would start World War III right in our back yard. So, I warned him to be careful and then went inside where I wouldn't have to watch and worry.
Dads just don't think like moms do. Dave thought..."well, he's going to want to watch, and he's old enough to be up here, so he might as well." I thought "he's going to get killed, or break his back and end up a paralytic, or..." Dave went about his business quite calmly and didn't seem to give it a second thought. I guess because men remember all the stupid stunts they pulled as kids and then lived to tell about, they don't worry too much about their boys. Moms, however, have no such frame of reference. There are few girls who can boast about the time they accidentally set their Science teacher on fire (an honest-to-God true story from my dear husband), or about the time they built a bomb in the cellar (another true one from my father-in-law). So, their "safety worry centers" are all out of kilter.
Needless to say, Garrett survived just fine, and he had a wonderful day asking Dave a million questions..."What's that, Daddy? Where do you put it? What are you doing with that nail gun? Can I try? Why not? Can I throw this off the roof? Why?"
After 12 straight hours of work, we now have a leak-less roof and a functioning air conditioner. Dave was planning to re-shingle the whole roof, but after Saturday decided the rest of the roof could wait awhile. He's going to patch a few spots and then take a much-needed break. I'm so blessed God sent me a man who knows how to do all this himself! Thank you Lord! (And sorry honey, I'm sure it would be easier if you could just call someone else to do it!)