Where's My Steak?

My dad has always been a beef eater.   He dislikes fish and is bleh about chicken. I always thought it was just personal preference. Until last night.  My dad has also always been a huge softy.  And just when I think I have heard all the stories from the past he is likely to bring up, something new will pop up.  Out of the blue at dinner last night he started talking about how much chicken they ate when he was growing up.  He said they kept their own birds and it was his dad's job to go out and ring their necks.  He showed me how he would do it, by swinging them around, and told me how upset he used to be when they would run around with no heads.  The next thing I knew, he was crying over those poor chickens and telling my that is why he has always preferred beef.  I used to think he was being crotchety when he said, "Where's my steak?!"  Now it just reminds me of what a gentle soul he has always been, even though he tried to act like a tough guy.