Over the years I have read plenty of jokes of the
insane things parents plot and plan when adjusting to the fact that their
daughters are starting to date boys. But now as I face the reality that this phase of my parenting life is approaching, all of a sudden, they don’t seem all that crazy. I think that any potential suitor will
receive a letter from me with a very detailed explanation of my
expectations. Clear communication is
essential to any relationship and any dude better realize quickly that being
in a relationship with my daughter means I am part of the package.
Dear pond scum, (What?
To much?)
I have come to understand that my daughter would like
to spend some time with you this weekend, on what has been traditionally termed
a “date.” I consider this event and your
presence in my life both inevitable and unfortunate…much like taxes… and plaque.
My daughter is one of the most precious individuals
on earth to me. You, I am afraid, are my
worst nightmare. I have dreaded your
presence in my life since the moment the sonogram technician said “it’s a girl.” Before your name was ever uttered in my home I
was cursing your existence. You may be
a varsity athlete, national merit scholar, and saved an orphanage full of
babies from a fire…I am not impressed...what else ya got?
My daughter accepting your invitation is a good sign,
but not a guarantee you are actually going to make it out my front door with
her. In fact, how you exit my home, with
whom, and in what condition are completely up in the air once you enter. There are so many possible scenarios …know
that I am rooting for you to leave my
house either voluntary alone or in some type of emergency services vehicle. On that note, please make sure to carry your
health insurance and donor cards with you.
If you would like, I would happy to keep copies of each on file for the future.
Please plan on appropriate attire. The very word “underware” has “under” in it –
and to this I apply a very simple definition “under your clothing and
completely out of sight.” I have no interest in knowing if you are
briefs or boxers type of guy. If I have
any inkling at all, you will have two choices:
retreat voluntary (highly, highly recommend) or we can secure your waistband
to the appropriate place using my Martha Stewart sized hot glue gun. You may have heard jokes about dad’s duct taping and using staple guns…the glue
gun is the my version.
All piercings should be closed (surgically) and tattoos
permanently removed (using a sand blaster if necessary). My daughter will not be dating a stinky
smoke-stack so you will quit smoking. If
any of these things require time, I have
no problem with you postponing your plans with her …indefinitely.
So, now let’s talk about your arrival:
You must come to the door and respectfully greet me
by shaking my hand – I will be very happy if you are profusely sweating. This is a good indication of fear and is
disgusting making you unattractive to my daughter.
If your
parents have driven you over, they should accompany you to the door as well. It would be helpful if you all could provide letters of reference
attesting to scholastic achievement, work ethic and honest nature. Your chances of leaving with my daughter
greatly increase if your parents bring
the deed to their home which I will turn back over to them upon my daughter
arriving safely home and on-time.
Once the paper work has been reviewed I will invite
you in. We will make small talk. Honestly, I have no interest in getting to
know you. The purpose of this time is
for you to take close notice of the large shot gun over the fireplace and for
me to make you feel uncomfortable. My
goal is to scare you so you go away…forever…
Part of this conversation will be a fierce
interrogation of your plans for the evening.
Thank you for providing a typed itinerary in advance.
At some point, and only when I am comfortable you
have a chance of survival, my daughter will appear. When greeting my daughter you are to address
her by the proper name her father and I gave to her at her birth. “Baby,” “Hot Stuff,” and “S’up” all guarantee
you an automatic ejection from the foyer directly into the front yard. The means by which that would happen would not
be pleasant and would not include your feet touching the ground as you cover that distance.
Your job is to boost my daughter’s self-esteem but
not in a way that suggest you have taken notice of anything below her shoulders
– because you will never ever look there...ever.
Compliment her hair and earrings. In the next few weeks it is going to take me to run your background check, please practice positioning your eyes so they
are always staring above the five foot mark, this includes when you are in a
seated position. Your neck muscles may ache...suck it up.
After several minutes, or hours, depending on how long I want you to suffer, I will suggest “ok, well you two kids go have fun.” This is not an actual suggestion that you should
have fun…you, my new best friend, should not have any intention of having any fun. After our obligatory handshake good bye
(after which I hope to need a hand towel) you should jester for my daughter to
exit first and I best see you open the car door for her.
Lastly, pay no attention to the ninja hanging from
the tree in my front yard. As you close my daughter's door he will shoot a dart of deadly bacteria into your neck (it won’t
hurt that much) The antidote will be available in my foyer for only 30 seconds 15 minutes BEFORE my
daughter’s curfew. This was the idea of my personal trainer, and is pure genius.
This is only step one of the process. Once you have demonstrated you understand and
will comply with the above, we will move onto "Step 2: how to act appropriately on a date with my daughter";
followed by "Step 3: appropriate date follow-up."
In conclusion, in case you are wondering, my daughter
is worth any pain and suffering you may go through under my watch. She is a phenomenal young women and should be treated as if she is more
valuable and rare than a Faberge Egg…because she is.
I truly enjoyed this blog! had me craking up in my office.:)
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