Like father, like….

 

As much as she admired and loved her dad, there were umpteen things she didn’t like in him. Not his character, but certain characteristic behaviours. She hated him for chomping his food noisily, dip his hands into sugar and salt bowls instead of using a spoon, using any available towel to wipe himself up. Or even just wipe on his clothes! There were a lot more of similar but less irritating kind too. Even as a growing kid she would show her annoyance at these. “Why do heroes come with flaws?”, she would groan many a time. She wondered why her mom - who was so refined in her ways - never bothered to correct him.  She was glad when she stepped away from home to study, and later to work. 

Years passed, but her reactions to her dad’s quirks didn’t change. She soon found love in the new city, and with parental consent married too. As luck would have it, she found her husband too ate noisily, slurped his drinks, and barely ever noticed that he was using her towels instead of his. “How does it matter? They’ll dry out eventually, right?”, was his reaction. To top it, he barely cared about the clothes he wore, and she had to take over his wardrobe choices on a daily basis. 

“How did I not notice any of these during courtship days? Is this why they say love is blind?”, she chided herself, as she clambered on to bed after the post-dinner chores. She had read somewhere long back that daughters invariably find matches that resemble their fathers. She had scoffed at it then. Today that memory brought a smile. She hugged her husband to calm herself. She had a lot of learning to do. Or was it unlearning?