8 Simple Rules for Dating my Daughter
When I was in high school I used to be terrified of my
girlfriend's father, who I believe suspected me of wanting to
place my hands on his daughter's chest. He would open the
door and immediately affect a good-naturedly murderous
expression, holding out a handshake that, when gripped, felt
like it could squeeze carbon into diamonds.
Now, years later, it is my turn to be the dad. Remembering
how unfairly persecuted I felt when I would pick up my dates, I
do my best to make my daughter's suitors feel even worse.
My motto: wilt them in the living room and they'll stay wilted all
night.
"So," I'll call out jovially. "I see you have your nose pierced. Is
that because you're stupid, or did you merely want to
APPEAR stupid?"
As a dad, I have some basic rules, which I have carved into
two stone tablets that I have on display in my living room.
RULES: -
If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd
better be delivering a package, because
you're sure as heck not picking anything up.
-
You do not touch my daughter in front of me.
You may glance at her, so long as you do not
peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot
keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's
body, I will remove them.
-
I am aware that it is considered fashionable
for boys of your age to wear their trousers so
loosely that they appear to be falling off their
hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but
you and all of your friends are complete idiots.
Still, I want to be fair and open minded about
this issue, so I propose this compromise: You
may come to the door with your underwear
showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and
I will not object. However, In order to assure
that your clothes do not, in fact, come off
during the course of your date with my
daughter, I will take my electric staple gun and
fasten your trousers securely in place around
your waist.
-
I'm sure you've been told that in today's world,
sex without utilizing a "barrier method" of some
kind can kill you. Let me elaborate: when it
comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I WILL kill
you.
-
In order for us to get to know each other, we
should talk about sports, politics, and other
issues of the day. Please do not do this. The
only information I require from you is an
indication of when you expect to have my
daughter safely back at my house, and the
only word I need from you on this subject is
"early."
-
I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with
many opportunities to date other girls. This is
fine with me as long as it is okay with my
daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out
with my little girl, you will continue to date no
one but her until she is finished with you. If you
make her cry, I will make YOU cry.
-
As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for
my daughter to appear, and more than an hour
goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to
be on time for the movie, you should not be
dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup,
a process which can take longer than painting
the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just
standing there, why don't you do something
useful, like changing the oil in my car?
-
The following places are not appropriate for a
date with my daughter: Places where there
are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a
wooden stool. Places lacking parents,
policemen, or nuns. Places where there is
darkness. Places where there is dancing,
holding hands, or happiness. Places where the
ambient temperature is warm enough to
induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops,
midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls,
a sweater, and a goose down parka zipped up
to her chin. Movies with a strong romantic or
sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which
feature chainsaws are okay. Hockey games
are okay.
My daughter claims it embarrasses her to come downstairs
and find me attempting to get her date to recite these eight
simple rules from memory. I'd be embarrassed too -- there are
only eight of them, for crying out loud! And, for the record, I
did NOT suggest to one of these cretins that I'd have these
rules tattooed on his arm if he couldn't remember them. (I
checked into it and the cost is prohibitive.) I merely told him
that I thought writing the rules on his arm with a ball point
might be inadequate -- ink washes off -- and that my wood
burning set was probably a better alternative.
One time, when my wife caught me having one of my
daughter's would-be suitors practice pulling into the driveway,
get out of the car, and go up to knock on the front door (he
had violated rule number one, so I figured he needed to run
through the drill a few dozen times) she asked me why I was
being so hard on the boy. "Don't you remember being that
age?" she challenged.
Of course I remember. Why do you think I came up with the
eight simple rules?
~ Bruce Cameron ~
[ By:
W. Bruce Cameron Copyright © 2005 - { used with permission } ]
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