I have a daughter…… I have a daughter!
Sugar and Spice and everything nice! Ruffles and lace and pretty bows! Tea parties and Barbie dolls and stuffed bunnies! Hair brushes and lip gloss and pretty dresses. Ah the delight of having a daughter!
That’s all well and good. But consider the following:
In a few years she will want to start dating. Then she will want to start holding hands….which might lead to kissing and OH GOOD LORD Pandora’s box will be right in front of her.
How can I prevent this?
But I CAN delay it. I can sabotage it.
Here’s my strategy.
I’ll prepare garlic-filled dinners before any date night. If their date is dinner, then a strongly garlic-filled snack as soon as she gets home from school. SERIOUS garlic.
I’ll serve her gas-causing meals the day of the date. Especially if it is a Saturday….I’ll have the whole day to pre-load her up on beans, broccoli, eggs, and onions. Oh, and the kiss of farting death: cauliflower
I’ll display a shotgun in each room the boy may enter when he comes to pick her up….and I’ll place open boxes of Ammo everywhere, too. Maybe even a couple of empty cases in the bathroom.
I’ll have Troy sit down with the boy and subtly, casually tell stories from when he was a Fire Investigator in the Fire Marshall’s office and how he had to take all the Police Training Courses to do it. Including marksmanship. And then I’ll have Troy tell the boy how well-trained he is in detective work. And tell him how many people are in jail because of his investigative skills. Oh, and I’ll ask him to fake a nervous twitch.
I’ll make the boy give us a full fingerprinting before he leaves the house with Gwen. Also, I’ll have him leave a sample of hair for DNA testing.
And the Piece De Resistance: When she isn’t looking, I’ll smear fresh cat-poo on the bottom of her shoe…deep in the crevices so it won’t scrape easily. Just enough to give off a slightly malodorous scent.
That should about cover it.
Oh yeah, and I’m going to take my daughter to the Vet to have a chip placed subcutaneously like they do in dogs. Only I’ll have them add a GPS marker so I can locate her at any time.
Brilliant. Genius, I know! You don’t have to tell me!
Some people would suggest I simply sit down with her and warn her off. Appeal to her logical side. But look, people, we’re talking about fighting hormones. We’ll also be in the “parents are idiots” stage of her development….you know, the time in her life where she will think I have no idea what it is to be crazy randy horny, so she might blow off my advice. I can’t take that chance.
So I say, go in the back door. Don’t take this monster on face to face. Work smarter, not harder. Remember, old age and treachery beat youth and skill every time.
For those of you friends with daughters, you’re welcome for the ideas.
For those of you friends who have sons, go ahead and convict me of being over the top. Tell me I’m too extreme. Accuse me of being insensitive. Brand me as insane.
I sleep at night. Do you?