Remember this Guy?:

He's my husband. He's awesome. Tough as nails. Tougher, really.

20 years in the Marine Corps.
A skilled marksman.
Cool under pressure.
He can do all the stereotypical "macho" things; mechanical, electrical, woodworking, carpentry, etc.
Rides a Harley.

See the shed he's building?
See how good he looks on that bike?
Sorry- sidetracked for a minute....

Oh! And he kills things.
But only for food, and never more than we need.
He's practical.

So why is it that he turns to mush around our girls?

When the 18-yr old was younger, he decided she needed a bike. So he takes her on his lunch break to get one. And he leaves a pregnant me to chase her up and the down road to let her learn to ride.

A year or so later, she leaves the bike parked behind his truck and he backs over it and squooshes it.

He told her to put it up when she was done.
He told her that numerous times.

So he told her again.

She was crying.
Her heart was broken.
And then he said;
"It's partly your fault for leaving it there.
But it's partly my fault for not looking where I was going."

And then he took her to the store to get another one.

The youngest found a turtle a few years back.
A pond turtle.
She named him "Franklin", of course.
Franklin died after a year.
That's a good long time for a pond turtle in captivity.

But her heart was broken.
And the tears rained down.
She had lost her "best friend", she told him.
So my husband squatted down and asked her if a puppy would help.
Which left me on a mission to find an acceptable turtle substitute.

The girls want a bunny now.
They "need" a pet.

Besides the two dogs, chickens, ducks, turkeys, and horse...

So he okayed that.

Yeah, he's tough!