These last few days have confirmed I have a fetish for male hands.

More specific, and because I have recently been witness to little wee man hands, I realize that: I have a fetish for large male hands. (#notaeuphemism)

For me, a man with wee little hands has pulled the genetic short stick.

Whereas large man hands say I will protect you and your uterus, bear down the right amount of pressure on your body, be strong, and perform regular household chores with efficiency, little wee man hands weep I might need you to cut up my steak, I will likely drop our seedling on its head, and in case of emergency please call a man with large hands.

Look. I didn’t make the rules, rather I just appreciate and respect them.

This preference is entirely and completely primal, having started the moment our daddy placed his hands on our shoulders and we were made to feel safe, to the moment that the men in our lives cupped the back of our head in one palm, and covered half of our back with the other.

Purely, totally, and unequivocally: Base primal instinct.

If you’d like to pop psychologise this a little further before you head out on your Friday evening, recall that whereas troops of male baboons are drawn to the physical body parts of the female, the female is in fact drawn to what we call the Alpha Male, with characteristics: leadership, confidence, dominance, and humour (the ability of a man not taking himself seriously is characterized as “alpha” because when one is truly confident, one can handle self-deprecation).

Although some argue that we have “evolved,” the reality is that the root of these characteristics are entirely physical. In hunter / gatherer societies, the Alpha becomes as such primarily through physical strength. Little man hands might be great in some instances (like crochet work), but do not lend themselves to the requisite strength of hunting with brute force tempered within strategy (required to maintain your status as leadership).

To recap…

Large man hands: Good.
Wee man hands: good for some things, but I don’t want them touching me because they’ll feel like a spider and I will get goosebumps for all of the wrong reasons, though I am sure you are a lovely man and would make a lovely friend.

Ladies: Am I right?

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