You can hear his balls clank together when my husband enters a room. He doesn't manscape and he sports a chest that is full of very sexy and manly hair. He uses bar soap (Irish Spring, no less)and refuses to try bath gel. He doesn't wear cologne, preferring the scent of his Old Spice deodorant. He is polite in public, but he farts when the need strikes in private - even if his lovely wife is in his presence. He'll eat tofu if it is served, but he absolutely devours beef. He likes hoppy beer and icy-cold vodka. He knows how to hunt the smallish game that are found on the Great Plains and he can comfortably ride horses. He cusses, drinks, and likes shooting guns. He is the quintessential man's man and I'm so happy that I didn't end up with a metrosexual or a pushover.
My husband does not clean our house at all; no dusting, sweeping, or mopping for him. He also doesn't do any work in our restrooms besides using the squeegee on our clear glass doors after he uses the shower stall. He does not do our laundry, but he will gladly swap the clothes over upon request. He does not usually cook our meals - though he kindly cooks his own breakfast and a scrambled egg for Toot each day. I nursed our son until he was just over one year of age and our son wouldn't accept a bottle. As a consequence, my husband never woke once for a middle of the night feeding. I do not expect my husband to change diapers and I have very rarely asked him to do so when I used disposables. Now that I have transitioned fully to cloth diapers (save overnights), I certainly do not expect him to deal with diaper changes. I am a SAHM and I fully expect that those job duties are mine alone. I feel fortunate that he takes care of his own breakfast & his son's breakfast and that he'll swap laundry if I ask. Heck, I feel fortunate that I am his wife - period. My husband was quite a catch (in my book) and I love that he chose to be with me.
Perhaps some post-feminist readers are thinking that I have married a boorish pig. A relic from the past. I have never thought so (indeed, I have always felt quite fortunate to have such a wonderful catch!) and I do find that my husband is surprisingly tender. My husband was born in the 50s, but he came of age in the feminism-in-your-face 70s. He appreciates and encourages my opinions on topics as varied as our personal budget, child rearing, religion, and political philosophy.
He adores his son and has enjoyed many hours with our baby on his lap. They read books together, watch Sprout together, and play with toys together. My 53-year old husband will patiently play with our not-quite 2-year old son's stuffed animals until our son tires of the playtime.
This man's man is surprisingly tender with the son who he clearly adores. Our son asks for his beloved "dada" frequently throughout the day. My husband loves to spend time with our son and I heartily encourage it.
My husband is All-Man. But he is also a wonderful father. I love seeing my manly husband enjoy his role as a delightfully tender father.