Ten Commandments For Dating My Daughter God, in His providence, has seen fit to bestow upon my wife and me two beautiful girls that we must steward into greatness. It has been a blast watching my daughters develop into righteous and rowdy, gorgeous girls. The thing that sucks with their metamorphosis into womanhood is the guys who've begun to buzz around our happy nest interested in my ladies. As much as I don't like the idea of their dating, I have got to suck it up and accept it bartender, I'll have a shot of whiskey.
All you dads who are worth your salt and give a crap about your kid. Even though I'm slowly coming to grips with my kids growing up, I'm not throwing out my brain and becoming a hip and groovy dad who curls up in the corner in the fetal position without an opinion regarding their dating life.
Not only do I have an opinion regarding wannabe suitors, I have 10 commandments for potential boyfriends. Yes, seeing that I'm still the Alpha dog of the Giles castle, that I still pay the bills, buy the SUVs, pay for College and secure their condos, then by God, I'm still makin' the rules. I am Doug Almighty, got that Rico Suave? What I'm about to reveal unto you is an attitude-laden afflatus, so.
Understand that your presence doesn't make me happy. Young squire, don't expect me to be giggly when I meet you. As a matter of fact, you're ruining my life right now. Therefore, don't try to be cute with me. That stuff may work on my daughter or my wife, but it does not work with me. Actually, you should expect nothing from me in the way of the warm and fuzzies. You've got to earn that. I don't care who you are or who your momma is.
Your presence represents a transition that I'm not really ready for, so just stay the heck back and be real cool. I've got a PI doing a background check on you right now. My wife and I have worked our tails off providing a good life for our girls; therefore, you better have one, Spanky.
Let me spell it out for you just in case you don't get it. You must have something positive going on in that thing you call a life. Additionally, you must be pursuing said noble goal at Mach2 with your hair on fire. If you're a slacking, blame-shifting, visionless slug with genital warts who's waiting for someone to carry them into greatness and who lives by the dictates of his ding dong, then you need to find a girl who doesn't have a father like me.
Do not touch my daughter, or I'll tear your hands off and you'll have to "whip the bishop" with a stub. Not only am I not cool with your being around me, I'm sure as heck not down with your touching my daughter. Therefore, when you're in my space and in my absence you'd better treat my daughters with the utmost respect. Do not under any circumstance hang all over my daughter, fondle my daughter or soul kiss my kid until you have a wedding ring on her finger, a joint checking account and MMA at Wachovia-or I will shove your Justin Timberlake backside off my 3rd floor balcony first chance I get, capisce?
Look me in the eye, shake my hand like a man and turn off your cell phone. If you come into my house mumbling, with your shades on and texting the entire time you're around me, you're probably going to be spending the next couple of days in ICU.
I want eye contact. I want you to see my soul, son. I want to look you in the eye when I communicate things regarding my girls and their lives. So, take the shades off, Hollywood. In addition, if and when I extend my hand, grab it like you mean it. Also, when you're at my casa, your phone goes on vibrate.
I'm sure you'll like that. Understand that you are a boy talking to a man. Here's some to meditate upon before you address me. I am at least twice your age. I've been in many fights. I've shot at felons. I faced down too-many-to-count charging wild boar. I've spent years in Tae Kwon Do. I've traveled the planet, planted churches and started businesses.
You, on the other hand, use Proactiv and drive a Ford Focus; therefore, you will call me "Mr. Giles" and my wife "Mrs. Giles" until we tell you any different. Also, don't gush around me nor attempt to read me an entry from your journal.
I'm not Oprah or one of your metrosexual buddies that you can share all of your inner fears and deepest needs with. I am a Neanderthal. Our family is old school. Do not even think about approaching me with liberal, hippy, agnostic, atheistic, anti-American or tree humping bull crap. I was raised by country-loving, God-fearing, hard-working, meat-eating, good ole' Texan parents, and I have zero tolerance for what your long-toothed, rather mannish lesbian sociology teacher at Columbia U programmed you with-you dig?
You should know that I like cool and expensive gifts and you shall provide unto me this bounty, if you're smart. One great way to earn my favor is to buy it. Yes, you'd be shrewd to approach me like the three wise men did baby Jesus, namely with gold, frankincense and myrrh. I might, might, ask you to join me for a nice cigar session with me and the boys if thou comest bearing such offerings.
Understand that if you're dumb enough to tell me a dirty joke, I'm comfortable enough with kicking your butt. I'm not one of your thug buddies you can go down the gutter with. I want maturity when you are around my family. If you say you're going to do something, then I expect you to do it.
Do not come into my house with earrings, a grill, or over sized pants with your butt cleavage hanging out. If I have to talk to you, you had better know as much about as many things as possible. I'm looking for a sacrificial dude who doesn't mind getting his hands dirty in helping around the house, in our community, in our nation and with our wonderful world. If you, young man, obey all the words written here, then and only then will you have a chance with my babies.
Now, go get me a beer. 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 ot make my daughter's suitors feel even worse. I call them the Ten Commandments For Dating My Daughters If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure 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 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. I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a "barrier method" of some kind can 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.
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 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? 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.