What to DO?!?

ANGER. Frustration Negativity.Hatred.Pissed off. Stubbornness. Unforgiving. Unwilling. Rage.Unheard. . . Testosterone,

That be the enemy of this house.  My only begotten son, begotten after 18 hours of labor, the kind where you are slipping away into the white light, the tunnel, the place where there is no pain, and you come back when called for to PUSH! … The son that I have spent 16 years feeding, clothing, loving, caring for, worrying about, fixing his boo-boos, lifting him up in his sadness, pampering during illness, answering each question to the best of my knowledge, trying to be the peacemaker in the house. The son that doesn’t get along with his father. The only son that I have. The only one that HE has. Why can I not be the peacemaker between them? Why does changing a light bulb in a car erase all that effort and love put forth into raising him, and his father ends up saying damn, which better than the F bomb, but Why can him and his dad not do a simple thing like that? and it become a war where his dad has to storm off in anger. Can that not be a sharing thing? Something done between a son and his father.  Bonding. But that fact that the son knew more about the light on his car than his father was the point of contention. OR rather testosterone. Why does he not have an outlet, somewhere to release that frustration, especially not on the son that is not going to be with us for very much longer. He will be a man, doing his own thing. This is the only time we have, when our children are still with us. I try to talk to both of them The father does not want to talk. The son says his dad is stubborn, and cannot stand the fact that he knows how to change his light, and his dad said he’s been changing many headlights on cars for many years. Now the wiring is stripped. The replaced light will not work. And I cannot take away the aggression between them. That’s a hard place to be in. And I don’t know why it is. Is it a personality clash? Is it that it’s a man to son thing? Both beating their chests and grunting, I know, I am, I can, I do, I will, grunt, grunt, grunt. I hate it because the girls we have are treated so much more respectfully and carefully. And I think the teen years are just as fragile, no matter how frustrating. We are still building a foundation upon faith, trust, and truth. Those things matter, not the beating of the chest, or the passive aggressiveness. I love my husband. I just hate that him and my son don’t get along. I hate that. I don’t think it’s just been the teen years, it might’ve started long ago. He is our first. The guinea pig. You expect so much more from your first child. Your expectations are almost ridiculously and completely beyond reality. Reality is they will act different ways, at different times in their life, according to what stage of development, and maturity they are at. Some will be lower, some higher. Each child unique. Each child as worthy of love and respect as any stranger off the street, in fact more so. They are our blood. They will reflect to the world what they have been shown, how they have been treated, and what they have learned at home. Home. Where it starts. I can’t control what he does when away from me, but I hope there is some semblance of compassion, and charity in him that other’s see, that he treats others with respect and fairly. I can’t erase the confrontations. I don’t know how. It’s like I would have to change each person, the father, and the son. Hothead. Forget to add that to the list. There is no stress here at home. It’s a go with the flow home, where the door has to be opened a certain way, the screens are all torn up on the windows from the cats, blankets and toys are strewn here and there, you cannot run the window air conditioner unit and the microwave at the same time or it will blow a fuse and you’ll have to go flip the switch, there is animal hair from 3 cats and one dog. It’s a "C'est La Vie" type of home. So why the constant clash over little things? I try to be their interpreter but it’s getting old, and they are tiring of one another, and I hate that as well. I was not close to my own father because my parents divorced when I was 8, and he just wasn’t one of those dads that gets down on the floor and plays with their children. But I wanted different for our own children. And I can side with neither, because I love them both. And also why do I have to? Can I remove myself from the emotional tension, and just let them be, and work it out? Should it be my place to be the peacemaker? It stresses me out as well. so.....What to do?