"My daughter asked me, her mother, what makes a man. I couldn't look her in the eyes, what with it being only a day after we buried her father. I asked her why she wanted to know, and she replied that penises were funny. I had to agree, penises were pretty funny. But I explained to her that a man is more than a penis. Many men didn't even use their penis. What makes a man, truly a man, is their ability to say they are a man, and then back up through their actions. I thought about this as I said it. I pictured Babe Ruth pointing to the stand with his baseball bat right before hitting a home run. I pictured that husking figure of a man swinging that bat and smacking the ball and turkey trotting around the bases. I pictured him in grainy black and white. I looked my daughter in the eye. "Home Runs" is what I said to her. She looked despondent and confused. I didn't elaborate.
The next day she came back from school, her hands as red as over-ripe pumpkins, her eyes as determined as starving orphans on halloween. She had a wiffle ball bat with her with a sizable dent in what would constitute the sweet spot. She walked up to me, slapped my ass, spit a loogie that what I would imagine (countering in her size) was 40% of her saliva, and said "I'm the man now Momma, you ain't gonna cry no more." I felt obliged to tell her, that is not how it works- but I realized- no. Home Runs exemplify a mysticism beyond comprehension, and that mysticism now meant that my little girl was now a man.
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