Week One Pg 23 #5

Over Christmas break I began to realize how much alike the men are in my family. PawPaw is the oldest of the men (79) and is the skinniest of them all.  He is about 5 foot 9 inches and roughly 160 pounds.  PawPaw starts his morning off with a cup of black coffee and a ten minute walk around the neighborhood.  At the end of his walk he goes to the most organized garage I have ever seen and starts what his wife would say "just another damn project." He stays out there all morning and afternoon creating a masterpiece that he will show off to everyone.  PawPaw then comes in, showers and puts his green slippers and plaid robe on.  He crosses his thin legs and squeezes his hands in between his thighs.  Usually he is watching the news and waiting for dinner to be served.  He usually finishes every meal before anyone else does only because half of his plate goes to their miniature schnauzer. As soon as he is done, he pushes his plate back and crosses his legs and squeezes his hands in between his thighs once again. PawPaw always makes everyone laugh.  He never is angry and always has a some kind of smirk on his face, whether he is guilty or not. As soon as his wife's fork and knife are on top of her plate, he asks "what's for dessert Roberta?" "You know what's for dessert Wilfred." PawPaw and Meme often call each other by the names they hate to be called. "It's in the freezer and go ahead. But only one scoop," Meme tells him. With the biggest smile on his face, he goes over to freezer pulls out the gallon tub of Blue Bell Rocky Road.  PawPaw knows how to get the biggest scoop of ice cream he can.  He use to own a Baskins Robin when his children were in high school. The scoop of ice cream takes up the entire bowl and for me, that would have been three or four scoops. He grins as he walks past Meme and heads for his recliner. As PawPaw is finishing his ice cream, their schnauzer is there waiting to lick the bowl.

Now I look at PawPaws son, Mark, who is my uncle. He is 39 and is so much like his father.  The gesture that stands out to me most is the crossing of the legs with the hands between the thighs. Then I look at my oldest brother Kevin.  He does the exact same. These three generations of men all have the same personality. They are very determined, easy going and thankful for what they have.  They all have loving wives that will put up with anything they do. They can get out of any situation that they are found guilty of just because of their charm. I look forward to see my brother raise his child. Will the same habits continue down the generation?