DADDY'S RULES:
Ten Simple Rules for Dating My Daughter Rule One:
If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a
package, because you're sure not picking anything up.
Rule Two:
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.
Rule Three:
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 ensure that
your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date
with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your
trousers securely in place to your waist.
Rule Four:
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.
Rule Five:
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.
Rule Six:
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.
Rule Seven:
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 that 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?
Rule Eight:
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 where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within
eyesight. 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 throat. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be
avoided. Movies which features chain saws are okay. Hockey games are
okay. Old folks homes are better.
Rule Nine:
Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a potbellied, balding, middle-aged,
dimwitted has-been. But on issues relating to my daughter, I am the
all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where you are
going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole
truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five
acres behind the house. Do not trifle with me.
Rule Ten:
Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake the
sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming in over a rice
paddy outside of Hanoi. When my Agent Orange starts acting up, the
voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you
to bring my daughter home. As soon as you pull into the driveway you
should exit your car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter
password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter
home safely and early, then return to your car- there is no need for you
to come inside.
The camouflaged face at the window is mine.